


Through a glass, darkly

by Illeana Starbright (SunlightOnTheWater)



Category: Batman (Comics), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover with Canon, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 30,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3625974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlightOnTheWater/pseuds/Illeana%20Starbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick Grayson is trained as a talon before being taken in by Bruce Wayne. This changes everything and, at the same time, absolutely nothing. A series of drabbles imported from my tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Blood

**Summary:** The Bat in Dick Grayson does not appreciate the invasion of his city. The Talon in him is screaming for blood. The logical part of him, the one that's still eighteen and scared, wants to go to ground. He obliges all of them. Takes place during the Justice League episode _Starcrossed Part II_

**Notes:** Dick Grayson is Renegade in this, not Nightwing, because he has had more dealings with Slade Wilson than Superman at this point.

* * *

They had only been in Batman's hideout for five minutes when Clark caught the hiss of a door opening and closing. "We have an intruder," he murmured. Diana, Flash, John, and J'onn tensed but Batman did not so much as twitch. Instead he appeared absorbed in trying to discover what the Thanagarians wanted with Earth, and what they were actually building. "Batman, did you hear me?" the Kryptonian questioned.

"Yes," came the brusque reply, the man not looking up from the computer. The other members of the Justice League exchanged uneasy glances. Batman did not look up but his next sentence, snapped out in an irritated tone, was designed to reassure them. "He has permission to be here."

"Thanks for that," came a wry, amused voice and a figure in a feather covered brown cloak stepped into view. He appeared to be wearing a pure black one piece uniform underneath with some kind of brown sash across his chest, black boots, and gloves of a darker color with short, sharp blades curving out of them. A black domino mask with white lenses covered his eyes and his mouth, the only other part of his face they could see under the shadow of the cloak, was curved up in an amused smirk. "It's nice to know you're not going to let your friends attack me."

"I don't have friends," Batman rumbled and the figure let out a snort of laughter.

"Right, you just have people you glare at with different degrees of genuine irritation," was the swift retort.

Batman didn't verbally reply but he did stop typing and spin the chair around the face the figure. The figure grinned at the imposing Bat and lifted a gloved hand to removed the hood of his cloak. Whatever had darkened the gloves on his hands left a hand print on the hood but it fell out of sight before Clark could decide what the substance was. "Did you know there are crazy hawkpeople all crawling all over?" the young man asked. His dark hair faded into the shadows of the cave surrounding him, the color making Clark wonder if the boy was related to Bruce in some way.

"I'm aware of that fact," Batman replied coldly but Clark could have sworn he saw Bruce's lips twitch into an almost smile. Then the Bat's eyes fell on the gloves. "How many?" he rumbled, voice going dark, and the smile slipped off the boy's face.

"I don't know. I didn't count." Bruce didn't look convinced and the boy's expression turned icy. "Fine," he growled, tone almost akin to the Bat's. "Four in the 'Haven, all of them messy. I gave up trying to incapacitate them after the first one almost shattered my arm when I was fighting him. Two more outside the city. Three in Greensborough with Wilson. We hid the bodies there so I might have to go back and move them after this so-called invasion is over. We were headed in opposite directions, before you ask. Eight in various places between towns along the highway. None outside the city limits or inside Gotham proper." The boy didn't ask if Batman was happy but his tone implied it anyway.

"Seventeen then," Bruce said, voice empty. The boy nodded once, the movement sharp, in response. "Anything to tie them to you?"

"Of course not," came the sharp reply. "I was not trained to make foolish mistakes. I was forced to circle back at times to obtain my weapons but I have them all and I was not sloppy enough to leave a blood sample."

"Good," Bruce said but his tone this time was not entirely pleased. The boy seemed to slump under the weight of that and then winced, lifting one hand to press against his left shoulder. Bruce arched an eyebrow and the boy scowled.

"Dislocated arm. It's nothing serious."

"Could somebody please tell me what's going on?" Wally interrupted, glancing between Batman and the still masked boy.

"That isn't important," Batman growled. Wally twitched a little and Diana frowned at Bruce reprovingly. She and Wally had bonded during the time they'd spent together, becoming like brother and sister, and the princess of Themyscira was not one to shy away from Batman's irritation.

"What he means to say is that my name is Renegade," the boy interrupted, voice a little harsh. "And he's not happy that I just killed seventeen people." Wally made a sound that was almost a squeak and Clark felt his head snap around to stare at the kid. Small and slim as he was, Clark couldn't picture the boy killing seventeen Thanagarians.

"That's not what I'm upset about," Batman said, voice suddenly tired.

"Then what is it?" the boy, Renegade, snapped. "Because I'm getting mixed signals here."

"I am not pleased about your actions," came the reply and Renegade let out a frustrated, almost animalistic sounding, snarl.

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Let me finish," Batman growled, tone dark enough to make Wally flinch. The boy straightened up sharply, like a soldier coming to attention in front of a superior officer, and all emotion washed off his face.

" _Bruce?_ " Diana questioned but Batman ignored her.

"In not concealing your actions against the Thanagarian troops could have, and could still, draw the wrong sort of attention to you. It still might after this is over with." The boy's expression softened somehow, although Clark would be hard pressed to describe how, and he tilted his head slightly, giving off the impression of being a curious puppy.

"The Court is hibernating B. They aren't going to risk coming after me for at least another year. Especially not with how active the Shadows have been around here." Clark glanced over at John and J'onn but both gave him blank looks. Diana and Wally appeared to be equally mystified by what was going on. It sounded like the boy was speaking in some sort of code.

"That doesn't stop me from worrying," Bruce replied and the boy smiled, reaching down to peel off his gloves.

"So I've noticed." He wrinkled his nose at the soiled objects and tossed them aside where they landed with a wet thump. "I'm going to have to burn those."

"You left extra things in one of the blackout cases," was Batman's reply. The boy flashed Bruce another quick smile at that.

"I'd hoped you hadn't gotten ride of them after our last argument." The boy reached out and carefully removed the cloak, letting it fall to the floor with a soft hiss and revealing a flash of a red V that seemed to go across his chest. He winced again at the motion and scowled before lifting both hands determinedly to remove his mask. Cobalt blue eyes gleamed as the boy studied the members of the Justice League. "Richard Grayson, nice to meet you."

The name garnered a twinge of recognition in Clark's mind but he couldn't quite place it. He guessed that Grayson was related to Bruce Wayne in some way, though he wasn't sure whether or not it was by blood, but he felt like there was something else significant about the name. He resolved to check it out as soon as he had downtime again.

"Mind helping me with my shoulder?" the boy asked, turning his gaze to Bruce. "I can get it myself but I'd rather not." Batman rose fluidly and crossed to smoothly slide the boy's shoulder back in place. Richard's jaw tensed and the members of the Justice League wince at the sound it made slipping back into place. Then they startled when the boy's eyes flashed yellow.

"Holy Hera," Wally muttered and in another situation Clark would have grinned at the Flash using Diana's version of cursing. At the moment he was mildly concerned by the sign that Richard wasn't human. Was the boy a fake sent in by the Thanagarians to trap them? J'onn's eyes glowed and the boy turned to scowl directly at the Martian.

"Stay out of my head," he warned darkly. J'onn's eyes narrowed at the boy and Clark knew, without checking, that he wasn't the only one studying Renegade suspiciously. "Trust me, the boy added in a softer tone. "You don't want to see what's lurking there."

"How do we know you aren't one of the Thanagarians?" John questioned,shifting into a fighting ready position. Beside him, Diana's hands clenched into fists.

"He's not," Bruce said, turning to look at them with steady eyes. "What you just saw is part of his genetics."

"Not exactly," the boy hedged. "But close enough. I've been genetically altered in several ways and the yellow eyes are part of that." He tested his range of motion and then turned to grin at Bruce. "I'm going to change into something without quite as many bloodstains. Batman nodded and the boy faded away into the shadows, his movements difficult for even Clark to track.

"Where'd you pick him up?" Wally asked the instant the boy was out of sight.

"That isn't important," was Batman's sharp reply.

"He reacted to you like a soldier," John commented, tone almost accusing.

"By the time I rescued him, he had already been condition to follow orders or be faced with re-education," Batman said, voice tone implying that the conversation was over. The Justice League exchanged looks behind Batman's back but the boy returned before they could question further. The uniform he wore was an exact copy of the one before with a vivid red V across his chest. A fresh domino was plastered over his eyes and now that the gloves were clean Clark could see the gleam of claws at his was carrying the brown sash from before and this time the Kryptonian's eyes fell on the series of knives sheathed in the leather of the sash. The young man slipped it over his head and paused a few feet away from the Justice League, carefully outside of Clark's immediate reach since he was standing the closest to Superman.

"You said you ran into Wilson?" Batman questioned, not looking up.

"Yes," came the smooth reply, fingers flexing slightly.

"Can you contact him?" The boy's head tilted curiously at that question and he bit down on his lower lip for a moment.

"I can," he replied at last. "Why?"

"Meet up with him during the invasion," was the swift order. "I'll contact you afterwords."

"Right," the boy said, face sliding into a smirk. "We'll cause a little chaos in the meantime." He crossed the floor to pick up his earlier discarded cloak, fastening it around his neck. "Don't do anything heroically suicidal."

"I promise," Bruce agreed easily, almost too easily. "But that goes for you too."

"A hero? Me?" the boy teased, smirking widely. "I think not." He turned to leave and then hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. "Be safe Bruce." Then he vanished into the shadows the same way as he had arrived, by barely making a sound.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary:** Dick Grayson and Slade Wilson watch as the Thanagarians flee from Earth. Sequel to In The Blood. Takes place after the Justice League Episode _Starcrossed Part III_

* * *

Slade pulled his katana free from the body of the last Thanagarian warrior in the area before turning to face his companion. Renegade straightened with a low grown, the bloody gashes on his face already sealing themselves. His uniform was covered in rips the gashes beneath already healed, and stained with blood. The kid had abandoned his feathered cloak at some point, which had become a hindrance when they had been swarmed by enemy soldiers.

"How many does that add to your total?" the merc questioned as the kid kicked a downed body, checking to make sure the Thanagarian was really dead.

"Who said I was counting?" Dick Grayson retorted, trying to wipe the blood off his face with a blood stained glove and scowled when it only smeared the mess further.

"I know you kid," was Slade's smooth retort. It wasn't a lie.

The first time the mercenary had met Dick Grayson was in Bludhaven. The kid had already built a name for himself as Robin then, still moving with far too much predatory grace to be anything in Slade Wilson's eyes aside from an assassin. The kid had been following up a lead on the League of Shadows which had tossed him into the middle of Slade's scouting and the two had tangled. The merc had been struck almost immediately by the recklessness of the kid's actions, his willingness to injure himself in order to accomplish his goals. By the time the kid had vanished into the shadows, dripping blood, Slade had resolved to hunt down whoever trained him and murder them just to spare the kid more pain.

Deathstroke the Terminator had finished the job and tracked down Robin to Gotham City in the middle of an attack by the Court of Owls. The kid, thirteen at the time, had been struggle to fend off a larger assassin when Slade had separated the Talon's head from its body. He hadn't known that was what the assassin was called at the time, or even known anything about the Court of Owls but he quickly recognized the recklessness of form when the next Talon attacked. They worked together occasionally after that until Dick Grayson's screaming match with Bruce Wayne. After that event the kid had taken up the name Renegade and moved to Bludhaven which resulted in Deathstroke working with him much more often. The end result was that Slade knew Dick Grayson's habits, hang-ups, and tells better than almost anyone else alive and he knew very well that the kid would be keeping track of every life he had ended during the Thanagarian invasion.

"Between thirty and fifty," the kid hedged, still trying to pretend he wasn't allowing the exact number to weigh on his soul. Slade pushed his mask back over his head so the kid would be faced with the full force of his irritated scowl as Thanagarian ships fled the Earth's atmosphere.

"How many?"

"Fifty-three," came the sullen reply. "Sometimes you're worse than the Bat, you know that?"

"I am worse than Batman," Slade replied smugly and the kid frowned at him. It wasn't at all what Dick had meant and the merc knew it.

"You're insufferable," Renegade muttered after a moment, shaking his head slightly. Slade just smirked and turned his gaze skyward.

"I'm guessing your mentor just flew their space satellite through the atmosphere into whatever they were building," he said in a conversational tone and the kid growled.

"He better not have. He promised no heroics."

"I'm certain you did as well," the mercenary remarked, glancing pointedly towards the deep skid marks in the grass beside the road. The kid had gotten himself cornered and almost killed, at least temporarily, by four Thanagarians trying to protect the passengers of a small car that had somehow ended up in the middle of the fray. Renegade had pulled through in the end, with a little subtle help from Deathstroke, and the people inside had been sickeningly grateful.

"I'm not a hero," the kid grumbled, sulking, and Slade's smirk widened.

"Keep telling yourself that kid."

"I just killed fifty-three people in the course of one night," Dick retorted. "Heroes don't kill."

"You killed fifty-three soldiers trying to take over the planet," Slade replied easily, used to the kid trying to make himself out to be a villain.

"That doesn't excuse my actions. Heroes don't kill."

"You mean capes don't kill. When a soldier in a war comes home, he or she has killed for their country and they're called heroes regardless of how many lives they've taken."

"That's different," Dick protested, managing to look irritated and frustrated and hopeful all at the same time. The kid was a mess, psychologically speaking. Slade had been around fellow soldiers coming out of war zones that were in better mental states than Dick Grayson. Batman wasn't exactly in a position to work on the kid's mental state either. Bruce Wayne was as emotionally approachable as a rock when he wasn't doing his best impression of a playboy billionaire to the public so most of Dick's issues tended to end up buried by the kid in order to be declared field ready by the Bat.

"How?" Slade questioned, arching an eyebrow at the kid. Dick folded his arms across his chest and scowled at him, any resolve to act mature obviously wavering.

"I'm a cape, not a soldier," he argued. He should have known better. Any argument between the two of them never ended in Dick winning.

"I don't see a cape." Dick let out a frustrated growl and Slade smirked at him.

"I'm a _superhero_ Slade," the kid grated out as if spitting out each word physically pained him. "Superheroes don't kill people."

"Says who? Batman?" Slade challenged and watched, amused, as the kid's hands curled into fists. Renegade couldn't quite manage to beat him yet, though eventually the kid would get there. "Listen, you were brainwashed into becoming an assassin when you were still tiny, well tinier," Slade smirked and Renegade looked as if he were seriously considering trying to punch the mercenary. "The world's lucky you decided to try and save it. Besides, you're still a kid. You'll figure out the whole no killing business eventually."

"And if I don't?" the kid challenged but Slade could hear real fear behind the question. Part of the mercenary wanted to go snarl at Batman for making T _hou shalt not kill_ a condition for Dick being a part of Bruce Wayne's family. For a kid who had been brainwashed and made into a extremely effective and efficient killer at the age of ten, that expectation was nearly impossible to uphold.

"I can always use a partner," he replied smoothly and watched as the kid gave a jerky nod in response. "Besides," the mercenary added, teasing now. "Fifty-three of the enemy is an awfully low number for a psychopathic villain on a killing spree."

Dick let out a frustrated growl and lunged, fist never making contact with Slade's stomach where the blow was aimed. The mercenary blocked smoothly, despite his own slowly but steadily healing wounds, and snapped a knee up towards the kid's stomach. While Renegade was already twisting away from the knee he snapped a fist out to smack into the kid's stomach with just enough force to wind him. Dick let out another frustrated sound when he got his breath back, this one without anger behind it. Slade released the trapped hand and Dick straightened with a groan, carefully stretching sore muscles.

"Where are you headed?" Dick questioned, relaxing his stance and glancing with irritation down at the bloodstained uniform he was wearing. Slade doubted the kid would try to salvage the suit, especially with all the rips in it.

"I've got a room in the 'Haven," Slade replied easily. "I'll be heading towards Tokyo for a job in a couple days." Dick nodded at that and then twitched when his communicator chimed, reaching down to slide it out of his boot. He slipped the comm into his ear and then grinned at the voice which greeted him.

"You're okay then?" A pause as he waited for a response and then. "Good…Fine, I'll meet you there." The comm was removed and tucked away before the kid turned back to Slade.

"The Bat?"

"Yes." Dick shifted his weight a little, never quite comfortable in bringing up Batman in conversation unless he was extremely frustrated with the man. "I'm heading back to Gotham."

"Safe travels then," Slade said, already reaching up to pull his mask back over his face as the kid headed for the motorcycle he ridden to get to this point. "Let me know if you want in on the Tokyo job." That earned him a quick grin over a slim shoulder as Dick swung his leg over the bike.

"I'll consider it." Slade smirked under his mask, already knowing he would be doing the job alone while the kid spent some time patrolling and training with the Bat, and turned his attention towards clearing off the road as the motorcycle roared away.


	3. Stress Relief

_Summary:_ Renegade's version of stress relief involves tracking down Slade Wilson and picking a fight with him. Unfortunately said mercenary caught on to what was really going on a long time ago. (Or how Talon Dick Grayson deals with Jason Todd's abrupt return to life).

* * *

Slade Wilson was lying on his stomach peering through the scope of a high powered sniper rifle when the hairs on the back of his neck rose, letting him know he was being watched. He remained perfectly still, not letting on that he knew anyone was there. The mercenary carefully adjusted his aim, letting out the air in his lungs and smirking slightly when his target's head settled firmly in the cross hairs. He adjusted his aim just a little, breathed out, and put a little pressure on the trigger. That was when a slim body crashed into him, making sure his aim was just a little bit off.

Slade cursed as the bullet hissed past his target and the man in question dropped to the ground, taking him out of view of the mercenary twisted, pinning his attacker underneath him and then scowling at the bleeding form of Dick Grayson. The kid was scowling back at him, blood trickling down from the corner of his mouth.

"What are you doing here kid?" he rumbled and Dick bared bloody teeth at him. The kid had been suffering from some kind of internal injury then, might still be. That didn't explain what he was doing in Berlin four months after Slade had last seen the kid during the Thanagarian invasion. Dick thrashed under his weight, snarling like a wild animal. Slade guessed that under the white lenses, the kid's eyes would be a brilliant yellow color. Ignoring the snarl, Slade got a fistful of the kid's uniform and calmly bounced his head off the roof of the building.

Dick went limp for a moment and Slade demanded again, "What are you doing here?"

"Why does it matter?" the kid growled, jerking his head up to ram his forehead into the merc's. Slade grunted in pain, his grip loosening, and the kid managed to flip them sideways and end up on his feet. Slade dodged the kick aimed at his side, rolling to his feet and catching the fist aimed at his head.

He twisted the kid's arm up behind his back, far enough that it would break if the kid fought much, and demanded, "What are you doing here?" He knew the kid well enough to know that Dick didn't just pick fights with him for no good reason. Normally the kid was trying to get beaten down when he felt guilty about something. Either that or he was trying to relieve stress. Neither one was a good option.

"It doesn't matter," the kid snarled, squirming a little, and Slade firmed his grip, pulling the kid's arm up further. "Why do _you_ care? It's none of your business."

"You came and attacked me in the middle of a job," the mercenary retorted. "I think that makes it my business." The kid shuddered a little and then went limp. Slade didn't let up on his arm. He knew better. Dick Grayson was good at pretending he'd given up and then wiping the floor with his enemy.

"Jason's alive," the kid rasped at last. "He's alive and he's angry and he tried to kill me and Bruce." Slade released the kid's arm and Dick reached up to remove his mask before turning to face the mercenary with anguished golden specked blue eyes. "My little brother is alive and he hates me." Then the kid ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground. "I can't fix this."

"Give it some time kid," Slade advised. "Let the Bat and your little brother work their problems out however they're going to and then you can talk to him."

"They'll kill each other first," the kid protested and Slade snorted.

"I doubt that. Little brother can't get revenge if the Bat's dead and Wayne won't break his moral code for anything." Dick glanced up at him, considering, and Slade pushed back his mask so the kid could read his facial expressions. "I have a job to finish here, and more work to be done on it since you so rudely interrupted me. You can stay and help me clean up this mess."

"And why would I want to do that?" Dick questioned, a weak smirk sliding on to his face. The kid could be so very transparent sometimes and right now he was looking for any excuse to stay away from the mess in Gotham until he got his head on straight.

"You interrupted my job, and he was the kind of scumbag that's going to cause you trouble later, so you owe me kid," Slade told him.

"Fine," Dick said, his shoulders relaxing some. "I'll stick around and help you get the job done, but that's all."

"Whatever you say kid," Slade agreed dryly, earning himself a mildly irritated scowl. The tension wasn't completely gone from Dick Grayson's body but the mercenary knew that for now this was as good as it was going to get.


	4. Berlin

_Summary:_ Renegade and Deathstroke assassinate a government official and end up having surprisingly deep conversations on rooftops at sunrise. Follow up to Stress Relief.

* * *

The first night in Berlin was filled with nightmares of his little brother being buried alive and clawing with bloody fingernails at the unrelenting lid of a coffin. The nightmare had Dick jolting awake, gasping for breath loudly enough to rouse Slade who had been sleeping peacefully on the couch. It was humiliating. The mercenary sat up to glance back towards the bed and Dick tried to calm his thundering heartbeat enough to scowl at the man. "Shut up and go back to sleep," he growled before Slade could attempt to make him talk. To emphasize how little he wanted to have a conversation about his latest addition to his gallery of nightmares, Dick rolled so he was lying on his stomach and childishly pulled the blankets over his head. He listened to Slade's soft snort and the rustling sound of the man lying back down before relaxing enough to get truly comfortable again. After a while he drifted off to sleep.

Dick woke up at sunrise screaming. A hand clapped over his mouth and he thrashed for a moment, still caught in that dream world of _cold-pain-hurt-pleasepleaseplease let me OUT!_

"Easy kid," a voice murmured and Dick let himself go limp, senses finally registering Slade Wilson looming over him. "Back with me?" the man questioned after a moment and Dick nodded, heart still trying to pound its way out of his chest. That was reassuring, letting him know that he hadn't just been brought out of cold storage, that he was still free.

Slade's hand lifted away from Dick's mouth, gray eye demanded an explanation. Dick wanted to shrug the whole nightmare off but couldn't quite manage it with the terror at the thought of being locked away in cold storage, frozen until he could be of use to the Court again, was too raw and close to the surface. He tried to speak but a little pathetic whimper was what escaped him instead, body shuddering like he was trapped in a cold wind. A hand settled on his shoulder, the weight reassuring, and Dick pulled in another shuddering breath.

"He was locked up," Dick managed to spit out, shaking all over. "Locked up and he couldn't get out. _Oh god!_ " The last sentence was accompanied by a full body shudder strong enough to almost shake Slade's hand free of his shoulder. That was enough to make the merc drag Dick to his feet and the young man didn't protest, allowing himself to be guided upstairs and out a door on to the roof. His mind was still trapped in the moment of being trapped just before the cold pushed his mind away into nothingness, comparing that to what Jason must have experienced, and feeling horribly guilty.

He allowed Slade to shove him down on the ledge and stared blankly at the pink stain of the rising sun. The light slowly pushed away the nightmare and Dick felt his shoulders relax, although the guilt remained. It didn't matter that he hadn't known that Jason was alive until he'd seen his younger brother without that stupid red motorcycle helmet. "Better?" the mercenary questioned as sunlight spilled over them.

"Yeah," Dick replied and then frowned, irritated. "Couldn't you have told me to put on pants before we came out here?"

"I'll remember that next time you're about to have a panic attack about being confined," the mercenary replied dryly. Dick was calm enough to snort at that and roll his eyes before standing and stretching out stiff muscles.

"Let's get off the roof before someone calls the police. Or I go into hibernation. Whichever comes first." This time it was Slade rolling his eye and Dick smirked widely at the man. "Are we catching up to your target from last night or not?" Slade ruffled the boy's hair in response and Dick scowled at him, lifting his hands to straighten the messy strands before heading for the stairs.

* * *

The target in question was Peter Albrecht, a part time German politician and a full time human trafficker with connections to Bludhaven and Gotham. Slade was being paid half a million by several interested organized crime syndicates in Gotham to get rid of Albrecht, permanently. Dick knew that the price was a little low compared to Slade's normal contracts. The young man also knew that the job had been taken because it would protect Dick. Slade had been hovering, as much as the mercenary could, since the incident with Blockbuster that had almost resulted in Dick's permanent death.

The pair crouched on the rooftop of a business watching as Albrecht and his two bodyguards, cheap hired muscle the man had hired after Dick had so rudely interrupted Slade's hit the night before."So what's the plan?" Dick asked, knowing it was going to be more than Slade using a sniper rifle from above.

"You take care of the hired muscle, I'll take out Albrecht," came the brusque reply.

"And by take care of do you mean leave them in a pool of blood or knock them out?"

"Whichever suits you," Slade replied. "Just keep them out of my way."

"Anything you say boss," Dick teased before launching himself off the roof, not bothering to wait for a signal. His smirk widened when Slade cursed softly and followed him, the pair crashing through the glass window of the barber shop. The bodyguard's lifted guns and Dick rose up in front of the lead one, using him as a shield. The second one hesitated, apparently these two men had morals, and Dick too advantage of that, flipping over his hostage to take down goon number two. Now for number one.

Positioning his body between goon number one and Slade, Dick beckoned the man forward. He watched as the remaining goon considered shooting him and then charged at him. Dick grinned at the foolish choice and ducked under blows, moving smoothly to take out the goon. He played a little bit, taking the time to enjoy the fight before taking the goon out.

"You couldn't have done that any faster?" Slade asked when the young man turned around and Dick could clearly hear the amusement in the mercenary's voice despite the fact that the full face mask covered any expression he would be able to read.

"Not a chance," Dick replied with a fierce grin. "Got a problem with it?" Slade just sighed, tolerant and slightly amused, and headed for the broken window. "What's the hurry?" Dick teased as he followed, emotions lighter now that he'd actually gotten to _do something_. It was amazing how much better life looked after beating the crap out of someone. "Don't want to get picked up by the German police?"

"If we do get arrested then you can explain to the Bat what happened," was Slade's response.

"Not funny," Dick grumbled, scowling, but he did pick up the pace. The two of them faded into the shadows a few minutes before the police cars arrived, sirens wailing. Dick was still grinning when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He jerked around just as a lithe figure dressed in the brown leather of Talon armor dropped down behind him.

"Richard Grayson," the assassin intoned, her brown hair wild around her face and her voice empty. "The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die."

Dick ducked the swipe at his throat with a low snarl, sensing Slade moving behind him, and launched himself forward at her. She twisted aside and Slade's blade hummed through the air, separating her head from her shoulders. Dick watched impassively as her body crumpled and her head bounced twice before turning away. He didn't have a clue who she was, she had come after he had fled, and he wasn't sure he regretted her death but that didn't stop the sick feeling churning in his gut.

"I have to get back to Gotham," he breathed out, heart pounding in fear. The Court was awake and they wouldn't just be coming after him. They would be going after Bruce, Tim, and a newly revived Jason Todd. He couldn't allow any of them to die because of this.

"I'm coming with you," Slade rumbled. Dick didn't argue. If the Court was back, then he was going to need all the help he could get.


	5. The Beast Below

_Summary:_ Renegade receives a rather vicious welcome back from Gotham. Direct sequel to Berlin.

* * *

The moment he stepped out of the aircraft, Slade at his back, Dick knew something was wrong. The city was quiet in a way it had never been before. At the very least there was always the noise of traffic rumbling across the streets, especially in this part of town. His fingers twitched to where his knives would have rested had they not been required to go through customs and his muscles stiffened. He turned his gaze upwards, scanning the dark sky for any signs of danger, or even just a glimpse of the Batsignal, but got nothing.

"You sure that wasn't just an anomaly kid?" Slade asked him. "An assassin with a grudge against you perhaps?"

"Unlikely," Dick replied, tone scathing. "I killed my year mates when I abandoned the Court and those older than I would have presented more of a challenge. The talon in Berlin was fresh meat."

"Pleasant," Slade said and Dick could hear the smirk in his voice. "But Gotham is awful quiet to have trouble running around the rooftops."

"Exactly," Dick replied, forcing himself to finally move from the tarmac when Slade nudged him. "Since when has Gotham ever been quiet?"

"It could be nothing."

"It never is," Dick retorted, quickening his steps. The sooner her got his supplies back, the better he would feel. They entered the near empty airport, this was in a bad part of Gotham so that wasn't entirely unprecedented, and headed for the baggage claim, Slade shadowing the young hero's every step. The pair grabbed their duffel bags, Dick fishing a knife out before zipping the pocket back up and heading for the door.

"We catching a cab?" Slade questioned and Dick looked over his shoulder to smirk at his sometimes mentor.

"In this part of town? Not a chance. I don't want to have to kill another cabbie."

"I want to hear the story behind that at some point," Slade replied, repressed laughter in his voice as the two walked out into the night. "So how are we getting across the city then?"

"The sewers," was Dick's easy reply.

"Of course," Slade said dryly. "What other way would someone cross Gotham?" Dick just laughed and crouched carefully over a grimy manhole cover, easing it up. He slid the heavy metal out of the way and peered down into the darkness, eyes gleaming yellow-gold as they pierced the darkness. After a moment he grinned and dropped the duffel on the platform below before leaping down to join it.

"Come on old man," he called up to Slade, forcing more cheerfulness than he felt into his voice. "Keep up."

"Old man?" Slade questioned, tone mockingly offended. "I'll show you kid." That eased a laugh out of the young vigilante before his mouth fell into a grim line. He didn't want to seek out the Court that had destroyed his happy life but he had to know whether or not they were really back.

The duo made their way through the sewers, Dick finding his way by temperature. Talons were susceptible to cold temperatures which meant the Court tucked itself away somewhere warm where they would have an advantage over anyone coming after them. The result was that the increasing warmth made his senses come alive and loosened his muscles. He kept his grip nice and easy on the hilt of his blade, ready to drop his bag at the first sign of danger.

A whisper of almost-noise had him freezing and freeing the knife from its sheath, letting his bag fall softly to the grimy ground. Behind him, Dick heard Slade's katana coming free of its sheath with a soft, deadly hiss. Anyone who came after them was going to be very sorry very quickly. Even if they did happen to be a talon.

"Richard Grayson," a smooth voice all but purred and Dick felt himself grow stiff with barely contained rage. "Have you come back to the nest?"

"Not a chance," Dick snarled, barely fighting down the urge to lunge into the shadows where he was sure William Cobb was waiting. His ancestor had been the one who had trained a young Dick Grayson to be a deadly assassin after kidnapping the boy from police protective custody while the Grayson case was being investigated. Cobb haunted Dick's nightmares, whispered in his ear on dark days, and sometimes made the young man wonder if he was destined to go dark. Dick wanted him dead.

"What a pity," the man said, voice rich and dark. "But no matter. You will come back sooner or later." The certainty Cobb felt was clear in his tone, sending a shiver of unease down Dick's spine. What if Cobb was right? Sooner or later everyone Dick knew and cared about, except maybe Slade, would be dead and then who would serve as an anchor for him? Who would keep him on the right path?

Unable to come up with a response Dick lashed out instead, sending the blade he was holding flying into the darkness. He heard a _tink_ as it bounced off a wall and then the tunnel filled with Cobb's laughter. "Nice try boy, but I know you better than that. After all, you are my greatest creation."

"I am not yours," Dick snarled but didn't fight when Slade pulled him backwards the sound of footsteps approaching them from the direction Dick had thrown the knife.

"You say that now, but sooner or later you will accept it," Cobb called after them. "You belong to the Court, Grayson." That was all the urging Dick needed to turn and run, leading the way back towards the chill. He'd left his supplies behind but it didn't matter. He had more things tucked away in the cave underneath Wayne Manor and that was where he was heading. He would need to warn Bruce and Tim about what was coming.

Dick and Slade emerged from the sewers a few moments later, Slade with his katana still unsheathed. It was only after Dick had pressed the manhole cover over the opening that the man sheathed his sword. "You okay kid?" he asked and Dick nodded already turning away and searching for a street name. "You sure?"

"I'm fine," Dick snapped, not in the mood to debate his mental state. He had more important things to deal with.

"Right," was the mercenary's dry reply. "And I'm the Queen of England."

"Oh really? Where's your crown?" was Dick's automatic retort.

"Very funny kid." Dick ignored the mercenary and headed towards Wayne Manor. "You going to see the Bat?"

"Yes," Dick replied shortly and kept walking. He knew Slade and Bruce barely tolerated each other but this was important. "And you are coming with me. We are going to need help, whether Bruce likes it or not."

"Whatever you say." Dick gave Slade a skeptical look and the mercenary smirked. "At least for now."

"Well that makes more sense," Dick said dryly, sensing someone overhead and leaping up to grab a fire escape. He began climbing, smirking slightly at Slade's muffled swearing before the mercenary followed him. True to Dick's suspicions, Batman was waiting for him on the rooftop, clock covering most of his form.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked gruffly.

"That's it? No _'Hi Dick, how are you doing? How was Berlin?'_ " Dick asked, arms folded over his chest. Bruce didn't look impressed by the young man's sarcasm and Dick let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. If we're skipping the pleasantries then we'll get straight to the point. The Court of Owls is awake and I've already had one talon try to assassinate me in Berlin. Sooner or later they are going to go after you and Tim. Possibly Jay too. I've come back to stop them."

"The Court of Owls?" a shy voice inquired and Dick turned a surprisingly gentle smile on the speaker.

"Hi Timmy."

"Hi Dick," the boy replied, waving a little. "I'm glad you're back." Dick's smile widened a little at that. Tim Drake was a sweet boy, maybe a little strange but he was perfect for Bruce's little Bat family or whatever Babs was calling it to annoy the man these days.

"The Court of Owls is an old Gotham legend that just so happens to be real," Dick told Tim, knowing the boy would soak up whatever information was offered to him like a sponge. "You know that old nursery rhyme; _Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, / Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. / They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed. / Speak not a whispered word about them or they'll send a Talon for your head._ It's not just a rhyme." Tim shivered a little and wrapped his cape around his slim frame. "Don't worry too much about it though. B and I have taken them down before." That earned him a slim smile just before Slade reached the rooftop.

"Deathstroke," Batman rumbled, tone dark. "Why are you here?"

"I offered my service to the kid Wayne," was Slade's response.

"He's here until the Court is taken care of," Dick cut in, stopping an argument before it even began. "You know what we're up against. We're going to need all the help we can get."

"Fine," Bruce rumbled. Then he launched himself off the rooftop, Tim pausing to wave at Dick before following the man.

"He's just as charming as ever," Slade commented dryly and Dick sighed.

"I suppose it would be too much to ask that you avoid antagonizing him until this whole mess is finished with and we've destroyed the monster lurking below Gotham," Dick said, already having a pretty good idea of what kind of answer he was going to get.

"You know me so well kid," Slade replied before motioning to the fire escape. "We heading back down."

"After that response I'm tempted to push you."

"As if that would do you any good."

"It would make me feel better."

"Then by all means," Slade said, throwing his arms open wide. "Give it your best shot." Dick shook his head at that and let out a long suffering sigh.

"Just get moving before I take you up on that."

"Whatever you say kid, whatever you say," Slade drawled before dropping down on to the platform and beginning the descent. Dick followed him smoothly, hesitating once as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His head snapped around to look behind him and he barely missed catching a glimpse of the red helmet of a recently returned to Gotham Jason Todd.


	6. The Darkness Within

Summary: While searching for the Court of Owls, Dick encounters his formerly dead little brother and exactly what he's searching for. Direct sequel to The Beast Below.

* * *

Despite all the time he spent away from it, Dick never forgot Gotham's layout. It was as if she had imprinted herself beneath his skin, become part of the blood and bone and sinew that formed him. Below him, the armored bulk of Slade Wilson was pacing through the shadows like a jungle cat, glancing up from time to time to check Dick's location. The pair of them were searching Gotham's slums tonight, searching for any sign of the Court, while Batman, Robin, and the second Batgirl, Cassandra Cain, were searching the more prosperous areas of the city.

Dick knew where the Court had been when he and Slade and first arrived in Gotham, but that had been a night ago and there was a good chance that the members had packed up and moved. The plan was to group together and check at the end of the night in case there were talons lurking behind or the Court actually hadn't moved. "Found anything yet?" Bruce's gruff voice demanded over the comm links that connected all five of them.

"Nothing," Dick replied, his voice cold as ice. The longer the Court was awake, the more he felt the invisible ties binding him too it tugging in the center of his chest, trying to draw him back to his so called masters. The fiercer the tugs got, the further he slipped into the mindset of a talon, emotionless and brutal.

"There's nothing on our end either," Tim chimed in. "Well, there's a gala of some sort but I don't think it has anything to do with the Court of Owls." Cass let out a soft snort and a slim grin slipped through Dick's coldness, anchoring him to the family he had chosen when he had rebelled against the Court.

"It doesn't really sound like their scene," he agreed. "Right now they're a little more focused on the destruction of anyone who has ever opposed them."

"We'll keep looking," Bruce growled, ending the conversation abruptly. Dick sighed at that and dropped silently to a fire escape before flipping down to join Slade on the ground.

"The Bat is in quite a mood tonight," the mercenary commented. Dick gave him a one shoulder shrug in response and matched the man's pace, senses alert for any sign of danger. "What is he going to do if they are attacked?" Slade continued. "We both know he doesn't kill."

"The talons are an exception. They are already dead," Dick replied, voice void of emotion. "You cannot kill something that is no longer living."

"What about you?"

"I'm already dead," Dick replied dully, attempting to pick up the pace only to be jerked to a stop by a firm grip on his shoulder.

"Dead things don't breath kid," Slade told him. "Their heart's don't beat and they bleed. They also don't feel."

"Sometimes not feeling is better," Dick said with a hollow smile.

"Not feeling anything is dangerous kid," was Slade's only reply before they started moving again. Dick didn't have a response for that.

Slade was right, of course. Not feeling anything had resulted in Dick personally torturing dozens of people to death during the Court's reign of terror, seriously injuring Batwoman who had been forced to retire due to the injuries he'd given her, and almost destroying any chance of safety and security the people of Gotham City had. Without emotions, Dick was little better than a mindless thrall to the Court's whims, an empty tool of destruction.

"You're thinking so loudly I can hear it from here," Slade commented and Dick could just picture the man's smirk underneath his mask.

"Very funny," the young man replied dryly, pushing thoughts of the past away. "I'm sure someone somewhere thinks you're hilarious."

"I'm funnier than you," was Slade's swift retorted which had Dick rolling his eyes behind the lenses of his mask. The former talon was just opening his mouth to reply when he senses picked up movement. He froze, the only part of his body moving was his head snapping up towards the rooftop. He was in time to catch a glimpse of red and in motion before he had fully registered what he had seen. He landed on the rooftop and followed the bulky figure to the next rooftop, admiring the fluid way Jason moved and the way his little brother had grown into his form.

"I didn't think you'd be coming back," Jason's voice sneered from beneath the helmet, tone bitter. "Not after you ran off when you found out I wasn't dead." Dick simply stared silently at Jason, not dignifying that with a response. He didn't deal well with change, his little brother knew that, and he'd been overwhelmed with guilt, which the old Jason might have known but the new one probably didn't. "Why are you back?" Jason demanded, gloved hands clenching into fists.

"The Court has woken," Dick intoned solemnly.

"So? You said 'Screw Gotham' and ran off to Bloody Haven when I was Robin. Why not leave the city to rot?"

"Because my family is here," Dick said, voice suddenly full of vehemence. "And I will not allow _any_ of them to be harmed by something that is _my fault_."

Jason flinched a bit at Dick's sharp tone and then scrabbled at the helmet a moment before yanking it off and throwing it at Dick. The object smacked into his shoulder hard but Dick barely felt the pain as it clattered to the ground at his feet. He was being washed away by other feelings. "Are you stupid or something? The Court is not your fault!"

"Like you dying wasn't my fault?" Dick challenged.

" _Dick-_ "

"Don't lie to me," Dick snapped bitterly. "I know what you think because I think about it every day. If I would have just ditched Bruce's rules and killed the Clown the first time I met him, you would never have been killed, Babs wouldn't be in a wheelchair, and you wouldn't have to be so angry at all of us."

Dick turned away from his little brother as the rooftop fell completely silent, giving a tense Slade the all clear signal. The mercenary was standing on the rooftop he had chased Jason across to get to this one, ready for a fight if necessary. The merc nodded and turned his attention to the opposite direction of Dick, watching his back as always.

"Babs hasn't talked you out of this yet?" Jason asked, sounding a little gobsmacked and a lot like the old Jason he had known before his little brother had been brutally murdered by the Joker.

"Barbara hasn't spoken to me since the Blockbuster incident," Dick replied, voice cool again.

"You mean the guy that went psycho and tried to kill you?" Jason asked and Dick glanced over his shoulder, mouth pulled into a confused frown. "Talia mentioned something about it because Lady Vic was involved. What happened that the red headed wonder is so mad at you?"

"I killed him," Dick said flatly. "And Catalina Flores."

"Oh," was Jason's reply. "Well, it could have been worse."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," Jason pulled out a self-depreciating smirk. "You could have turned crazy and tried to kill your family." There was a moment of the silence and then the younger boy added, "Seriously Dick, me dying was my own stupid fault. It's not on you." Dick shrugged and Jason sighed. "Maybe I should go throw my helmet at Babs. She was always better at this kind of stuff. Dick snorted at that and Jason responded by childishly sticking out his tongue.

" _Renegade_ ," Slade's voice suddenly snarled and Dick snapped around at a low chuckle, eyes scanning the darkness. For a moment he caught sight of William Cobb's form before the man vanished.

"One fine day in the middle of the night, two dead boys came out to fight," Cobb mocked, tone a child's sing-song. "Back to back they faced once another, pulled out their swords and shot each other. A deaf policeman heard the noise and came and killed the two dead boys."

"Very funny," Jason snarled as Dick crouched, grabbing his little brother's helmet and blindly tossing it in Jason's direction. Because he was still scanning the shadows, he managed to catch a glimpse of the older talon and launched himself into thin air. The two toppled through empty space, crashing to the ground with Cobb cushioning Dick's fall.

"Where are the rest?" Dick snarled and Cobb let out a bloody laugh.

"Who said they are hiding little bird," Cobb taunted and Dick let out a low, rumbling growl even as the man tossed him backwards into a wall.

Body aching, Dick lifted a hand to his comm and activated, spitting out, "Slade, take Jay and the others and head to where we were last-" He was cut off when Cobb's hand wrapped tight around his throat, cutting off his entire air supply.

"Uh-uh my student," Cobb crooned. "That wouldn't be fair." Dick lashed out a foot, going for a cheap shot and missing but managing to hit the man's stomach on the second kick. One hand slipped into his belt, removing a knife and stabbing it into the arm currently cutting off his air, causing Cobb to let out a snarl and release him.

Dick gasped for air while in his ear Slade said, "I hear you kid. I don't like it but I hear you."

"Just finish it," Dick choked out, ducked a blow and then finding himself pinned again. This time Cobb removed his comm and crushed it under a boot, yellow-gold eyes gleaming.

"Just you and I, student and master," Cobb said with a smirk.

"This time the student is going to best the master," Dick snarled back, lashing out with all his strength. He'd learned a lot from Slade and Bruce since he'd left the Court. Hopefully that would give him an edge that would allow him to defeat Cobb.

"It does not matter," the ancient man replied with a shrug. "Even if you best me, you cannot kill me and eventually, my student, you will come back eventually."

"You say that as if I am the same person I was when my parents fell to their deaths all those years ago," Dick snapped, squirming free of the pin and landing a hard blow on Cobb's back. "I'm not." The man just laughed in response.

Dick wasn't sure how long they fought, twisting and performing a deadly dance around one another. All he knew was the cuts that quickly stopped bleeding, the bruises that blossomed and then vanished, the bones that snapped and then began to mend together. At least he saw his opening and took it, claws lashing deep across Cobb's throat, sending the man toppling to the ground. "Goodbye," Renegade said, tone ice, as he removed a special vial from a single pocket of his belt and spilling the contents across Cobb's bloody mess of a throat. The poison bubbled and hissed and Cobb's eyes widened and his dying body thrashed before going still. William Cobb was dead. Again.

"You okay kid?" Slade's voice startled Dick, the exhausted boy spinning around. Muscles were already tensing for battle when Dick released who he was facing. The former talon slowly relaxed, letting out a shaky breath, and nodded.

"Yeah. Is everyone else alive?"

"They are. A little bruised and banged up but all still breathing. We got some extra help from Catwoman and a blonde girl calling herself Spoiler. The seven of us were enough to put the Court out of commission for a long time."

"Good," Dick breathed, swaying with exhaustion and not bothering to protest when Slade stepped forward to support him. After what had just happened, he needed to sleep for a long time.


	7. Bad Decisions

**Summary:** A cab driver is hired to kidnap Bruce Wayne's twelve year old ward, Richard Grayson. This ends up being the worst, and last, decision of his life. Explanation of the part in The Beast Below where Dick mentions killing a cabbie.

* * *

Eddie Thorn was a portly cab driver with thinning hair. He liked wearing cheap looking Hawaiian shirts, khaki pants, and a scuffed pair of Nikes that had holes in the toes. He sweated through the armpits of his shirts when he was nervous, which was almost all the time considering the fact that the city he drove his cab in the worst city in America. He also had witnessed something he had never wanted to see.

Eddie Thorn may have been a soft spoken coward but he had a beautiful wife and two wonderful children at home. The last thing he would stand for was seeing any child harmed, which was why he'd called the police when he'd seen one of the shadier cabbies drag a small boy in a school uniform into the cab and peel out. "Did you see who it was?" Jim Gordon, one of the men on the scene, asked the driver, expression serious.

Thorn nodded solemnly, watery brown eyes focusing firmly on the Gordon. "I did," the cab driver confirmed, ignoring the nervous sweat that was now staining his favorite Hawaiian shirt. He was determined to give the police everything he could. Some little kid was not going to get hurt because Eddie Thorn stayed silent. "His name is Francisco Alvarez." Alvarez helped traffic drugs as part of Carmine Falcone's gang and judging by the looks on the officer's faces they knew.

"Don't worry," one of the other officers said, resting a hand on Thorn's shoulder. "We'll find the boy." Thorn nodded, staring blankly beyond the officer's shoulders and the flashing lights of the police cars. They probably wouldn't find the boy until he was already dead, but Eddie Thorn had done all he could.

Twelve streets away, Francisco Alvarez was seriously regretting his career choice. He had worked for Falcone for eight years now but never had he done something like this. First off, kidnapping was above Alvarez's pay grade. Secondly, Richard Grayson was the kidnap victim from hell. The boy simply sat in the back of the cab and smiled, a shark's grin. Every once in a while, their eyes met and every time the kid's predator grin widened. It was making Alvarez nervous.

Taking another left turn in his taxi, Alvarez began praying softly in Spanish. He hadn't gone to church since he was little, and wouldn't his poor dead _madre_ be so disappointed in him, but now felt like a good time to return to the old ways. He had a sense that he would need all the help he could get. When Alvarez glanced in the mirror again, still praying softly, the kid was smirking.

* * *

This was not how Dick Grayson had pictured his day going. The twelve year old had still been in his school uniform when this unfortunate soul had grabbed him but that didn't mean he was unarmed. Bruce didn't know it, or at least pretended not to (Dick could never be sure with the man), but the twelve year old had several knives on his person at all times. This evening, the knives would be put to use. Bruce might believe that Dick was no longer Talon, but the boy knew the truth. The Court would always live inside him. It wasn't something that just went away.

His kidnapper was praying in Spanish, casting nervous glances in the rear view mirror. The man's fear amused a dark part of Dick, a section of him that was cackling. A section of him that couldn't wait to feel the man's blood dripping across his fingers.

The part of Dick that was taken in a trained by Batman was growing increasingly quieter the closer they got to the docks, sensing the danger they were in. The docks were where people in Gotham were taken to die. Their bodies washed to shore eventually, covered in slimy seaweed. Sometimes they were little more than skeletons. Dick refused to become one of them.

The cab jerked to a sudden stop but Dick braced himself before he hit the seat in front of him. The boy slipped a hand underneath the jacket of his uniform and removed a thin blade as the cabbie stepped out of the driver's seat. The man had a butcher's knife but it wouldn't do him any good. Whoever this cab driver was, he didn't know anything about using knives properly. The part of Dick Grayson that was very, very dangerous did.

The door opened and the cabbie lifted the knife threateningly, holding it stupidly near his own throat, and Dick lunged forward, stabbing his own slender blade between two of the man's rips. The cabbie's mouth opened and a burbling gasp escaped him, one lung already filling with blood. As the man fell to his knees a hand scrabbled for the blade Dick had sunk into him. Another hand dug under his collar, removing a tarnished silver crucifix on a chain. Gurgling noises escaped his mouth and Dick realized the former cabbie was attempting to continue his prayers.

"God cannot help you now," Dick said, voice empty. Then he turned his back on the dying man and walked back the direction the had approached the docks from. He needed to find a pay phone.

Ten minutes later Dick was standing beneath a single dim streetlight listening to a phone ring in his ear. "Wayne Manor," Alfred Pennyworth's crisp voice announced when the ringing abruptly cut off.

"Hello Alfred," Dick replied. "May I speak to Bruce?"

"Master Dick?" Alfred questioned, sounding a little startled. The grandfatherly butler waited for Dick's noise of affirmation before saying, "Just a moment."

"Dick?" Bruce's voice questioned moments later.

"Yes," Dick replied calmly, staring at a rat scuttling across the empty street. "And Zitka." Zitka was the elephant Dick had befriended as a child at Haley's Circus. Her name was also the code part of a code the duo had created to ensure the other person was really who he said he was when they could not see one another. On this night, Zitka's name served another purpose. The name called up the elephant in question and melted the ice away from Dick's brain, allowing the more emotional boy come forth. He began to tremble.

"Where are you?" Bruce demanded. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Dick replied, glad the man wasn't here to see him shake. He rattled off the address and Bruce ordered him to stay put before hanging up. Dick suspected that Batman was about to call in an anonymous tip to the police. He didn't care. Instead he sat down at the base of the pay phone, curled up tight, and shook.


	8. Prompt I

**Anonymous asked: Prompt: Talon!Dick Helping the young justice team and acidenatlly scare them.**

**Summary:** The Team gets kidnapped and it's a very irritated and slightly unhinged former talon to the rescue. Fits somewhere in the talon!dick verse I've been writing. Let's say after the cab driver incident but before he meets Slade for the first time. (This kind of got away from me…)

* * *

Dick didn't mean to get involved, really he didn't. It was just that they were so helplessly stuck that if he left them there, the world would probably end or something stupid like that. A few months ago Roy Harper, Wally West, and Kaldur'ahm had disobeyed orders from the Justice League to stay put in the Hall of Justice, broken into Cadmus, and discovered a clone of Superman (Superman was not dealing with this). Dick had rolled his eyes at the news, and Bruce's statement that maybe he could join the team since he was around the same age as them.

Bruce had taken the dismissal pretty well and they'd gone back to normal, which was being antisocial and keeping an eye on the new team. Dinah Lance, known to the superhero community at large as Black Canary, had been put in charge of giving missions and Red Tornado was the so called "den mother" of the team, which had expanded to contain Miss Martian, assassin's daughter Artemis Crock, and Batgirl, because Babs was much less antisocial than the other Bats.

In truth, Babs was the only reason Dick was actually here. When Batgirl went missing it was never a good thing. Babs had become Dick's moral compass and with her gone, he often did things he might regret later. Especially if she found out what he had done. He always wanted to be a better person than he actually was for her.

Dinah had admitted that she'd sent the team after what had seemed like a drug deal. It was supposed to have been an easy bust and the woman was concerned that they hadn't come back in the time frame allotted. Dick had taken one look at the information she had about the gang and had started swearing in half a dozen foreign languages. Dinah Lance had sent the team after an international drug gang that Dick had been tracking for months because they had another quieter business on the side, assassination. Logically Dick knew the mess was at least partly his fault because he hadn't updated the Justice League files with his new information because he hadn't wanted anyone butting into his case. They had stuck their noses in anyway and someone was going to get killed.

Dick crouched in the shadows, dressed all in black. He hadn't bothered with the Robin uniform, not wanting to soil the name his mother had given him with bloodshed. His claws, the ones he had used as a Talon, were on his hands, ready to strike, and he had a variety of knives tucked away. This idiots wouldn't know what hit them.

Yellow-gold eyes focused on the pair of men patrolling, following them on their route. "You think one of those major heroes will really show up?" one of them asked, obviously bored by hours of seeing nothing.

"No doubt," the other one replied. This man had a hint of an accent, German by Dick's best guess, and looked irritated by the question. He wouldn't give Dick any answers but the other one might. That was all the boy needed to know as he dropped from the ceiling. Two minutes later the men were bloody and bruised but alive, albeit unconscious, and Dick was on his way to rescue a hapless team of superheroes.

* * *

Wally West had experienced a lot of things since the science experiment that had made him Kid Flash but kidnapping didn't really make the list. When push came to shove, he was normally too fast for anyone to even think of kidnapping yet here he was, tied up with the rest of the team. They'd managed to get Conner with kryptonite and Batgirl was struggling to escape from the knots they'd used to tie the ropes. Furthermore, the room was far too warm for M'gann to use the full extent of her gifts. In short, they were stuck. It wasn't a fun feeling.

The door to the room they were locked in opened softly and a figure dressed in black with brilliant yellow eyes. Wally felt himself tense but Batgirl giggled, a grin crossing her face. "You lied when you said you weren't my knight in shining armor," she whispered at the boy as he crossed the room, a knife coming out of nowhere and undoing Batgirl's bonds.

"I'm not a knight," the boy replied, sounding disgusted by the very idea, and Batgirl lifted a gloved hand to muffle her snickers. The boy handed the knife to her and then went over to Wally, cutting his bonds in an instant before moving on to Kaldur.

Wally rubbed feeling back into his hands and crossed the room in an instant to stand next to Batgirl, who had freed Artemis and moved on to M'gann. "Who is that guy?" he asked in a hiss that he had a sneaking suspicion the guy heard. There was something about him that just gave Wally the creeps.

"He's Robin," the red head told him, helping M'gann to her feet. "Some of the time at least."

"Not right now," the boy interjected, voice cool as he stomped down hard on the kryptonite. Wally had seen kryptonite stand up to a lot of things but the small chunk shattered into powder beneath his foot. Kal and Roy quickly slid around him, giving the strange a wide berth as they helped Conner to his feet. The boy motioned for them to follow and then ghosted out of the room, Batgirl following right behind him. The others exchanged nervous glances before following.

The hall they stepped into was completely empty. Though Wally had heard footsteps pass at regular intervals while they were still tied up, there was not a single person in sight. Their rescuer was standing in the middle of the hall waiting impatiently for them, Batgirl next to him. Neither one was even trying to hide. "Dare I ask what you did to them?" Batgirl was asking, shooting an unreadable glance at "Robin."

"They'll live," the boy replied impassively, arms loose at his sides and ready for trouble.

"Who are _they_ , exactly?" Artemis demanded, voice sharp and hands on her hips. The cooler air had M'gann able to stand upright without support which apparently meant Artemis was free to criticize the guy who had just saved their butts.

"Drug dealers," the boy said with a shrug. "Assassins on the side but you, of all people, should understand that." Artemis gulped and gave a weak nod, not meeting anyone's eyes as they glanced at her questioningly.

"Hey," Wally cut in. "You don't have to be mean about this whole mess. Arty was just asking a question." The young speedster might have argued with Artemis a lot but no one deserved to feel like crap for just answering a question.

"I was simply answering," the boy replied, shrugging again, and Batgirl smacked a hand to her forehead.

"Like an emotionless little brat you…" she made a growling sound before smacking his shoulder. The boy didn't flinch but he did squirm a little before looking at the ground and mumbling an apology. He was still focused on the floor when a man loomed over them and sent Batgirl flying with a single blow. What happened after was the boy snapping. That was the only real explanation for it.

Their rescuer let out a feral snarl and whirled on his heel, fingers flashing. Almost instantly, lines of blood began dripping from the massive man's chest and he stumbled back. The boy advanced and the man crumpled, blood everywhere, as Batgirl pulled herself to her feet. "Robin? _Robin!_ " she yelled, launching herself towards the feral boy. " _Dick!_ " she practically screamed and the boy froze, muscles tensing and intensifying. After a long moment he turned, eyes blazing brighter than before. After a moment of complete silence, the boy no doubt taking in the horrified and frightened looks on the faces of Wally and his teammates, he handed something over to Batgirl, turned, and walked away


	9. The Impossible Boy

**Summary:** When Slade Wilson first encounters Dick Grayson, he feels a little bit like he's just stepped into the Twilight Zone. Based off the mention of Dick and Slade's first meeting in Aftermath.

* * *

Bludhaven was a cesspit covered in shadows, the perfect place for the man Slade Wilson was tracking. The hit had come in from somewhere in Europe, though Slade doubted that was where his employer was from, and half the money had already been wired to his account. The other half would enter as soon as the job was done and Anthony Sobachek was lying dead in a back alley. Sobachek currently ran a drug dealing ring; cocaine, heroin, and occasionally ecstasy, though the last one didn't bring in as much money. One of his competitors wanted Sobachek eliminated and had been willing to pay the right amount to have Deathstroke the Terminator do his dirty work. Slade had agreed to the job and flown from Stalingrad, where he'd been relaxing after his previous job.

Slade watched as Sobachek left a bar, stumbling and probably blind drunk. This was going to be easier than he'd anticipated. All his research had informed him that his target had taken over a criminal empire that his father had worked hard to create and now drunk himself into a stupor each night. Slade's employer seemed to believe that the organization would fall apart once Sobachek was taken out. Slade knew better. Anthony Sobachek had a little sister named Darla who had been running the organization behind her big brother's back for years. Still, the mercenary did not feel inclined to enlighten his employer. He would finish the job and get paid for it. Nothing more, nothing less.

The mercenary was stretching out on his stomach on a cold rooftop peering through the scope of his sniper rifle, tracking the weaving form of Anthony Sobachek when when saw it, a slightly shadow racing across the alley. The figure blurred past Sobachek, knocking the man into another alley out of Slade's sight. The mercenary tracked the slim figure and rose, breaking down the sniper rifle and leaving it in its armored case before following. He hadn't thought there were any capes residing in Bludhaven so he was curious about who had interrupted his hit.

It was more difficult than he had anticipated to track the small shadow that had knocked Sobachek out of the way. The figure seemed to be following another taller shadow, the larger one wearing what Slade recognized as League of Assassins garb. Slade was vaguely familiar with the League, in that he had worked for them occasionally, but he didn't know their inner workings or what their goals were. He preferred not to. He suspected that the League of Assassins was after something he didn't want to see some to completion.

The figure following the assassin was little more than a boy with a dark cape and red and black uniform. Slade couldn't put a name to the uniform but he did know that the kid was far too young to be doing this kind of work. His motions said he was trained, too trained in fact, for this kind of work. His movements were fluid in an almost animalistic way, as if he was less than human. The assassin moved as if he was nothing more than smoke and the boy moved as if he were some kind of snake.

Slade followed until he could be confidant of where they were going, then crossed two blocks over and several feet in front of them, dropping smoothly between the boy and his target. The young vigilante hesitated a moment before lunging at Slade, using his body as a weapon. The mercenary twisted away from the kick, grabbing the kid's foot and throwing him at an alley wall. The boy struck it hard but somehow landed in a low, catlike crouch, teeth bared. Within seconds the boy was lunging again.

Slade twisted away from another blow and then away from a small throwing disk that made a tinking sound as it bounced off the wall behind him. The merc brought out a knife then, not sure he wanted to kill the kid but definitely certain he wanted this fight over. The kid barely twisted away from the first strike of the blade, a fist making it through Slade's defenses. The mercenary ignored the blow and sliced across the kid's collarbone through the fabric of the Kevlar weave, blood beading bright red before spilling over. The boy ignored it, lashing out again with a soft snarl.

The mercenary weaved away from the blow at his side and the kid twisted back from the knife only to have it leave a thin cut across his cheek. The kid was in too close for him to be safe from any blows Slade dished out but he wasn't putting any distance between them. Instead he was fighting as if he had nothing to lose, as if his life was simply a piece of spare change that someone more powerful could simply throw away. It both horrified and disgusted the mercenary.

Slade had signed up for military service at sixteen but that had been his choice. He had had been a piece in a puzzle but not someone that the military could just throw away. Not after all Addie's training. Then he had taken the serum. It hadn't done precisely what the military wanted and he had been pushed aside like so much trash. It was then that Slade had personally decided to forge himself into Deathstroke the Terminator. That someone would forcefully turn a _child_ into an assassin pawn disgusted him.

The kid barely managed to twist away from another slice of the blade, already dripping blood everywhere, and didn't look like he was ready to quit any time soon. That would have to change. Slade stepped up his game and a moment later he had the kid pinned to the wall, blade pressed carefully against his throat. "I want you to listen closely kid," the mercenary growled lowly, grey eye fixed on the kid's face. "In a minute, I'm going to let go and you are going to leave, understand?"

The kid hissed but didn't protest and Slade released him warily, not entirely certain that the slim figure would obey him. The kid hesitated for a brief moment and then moved, vanishing like a vicious shadow. Slade tracked his movement for a brief moment before turning and heading back the direction he had come from. He needed to pick up his sniper rifle and finish the job. After that, he was going to track down that kid's mentor and kill him for turning a child into a playing piece.


	10. Prompt II

**Anonymous asked: for the promt thing! the canon Batm]family Crossover to the Renegade Talon! Dick Universe :D**

This was a ton of fun! I didn't quite get the whole Batfam in this but I did manage some of them. Maybe they'll be a follow up to this.

Summary: Nightwing and Red Hood accidentally end up in the universe next door. Takes place about a month after The Darkness Within.

* * *

Weird things happened the Nightwing on a regular basis but this was definitely new. One minute he'd been standing in Gotham a few feet away from Barbara and in the next he was in the Batcave staring at Timmy. Not the grown up Timmy that was running around as Red Robin but little tiny Tim that hadn't been Robin for very long. Tim startled, eyes widening as he took in Nightwing's costume before hitting a button on the computer console without taking his eyes away from the unexpected intruder in the cave. "Oracle," Tim said, eyes wide, "I think we have a problem. There's a intruder in the cave."

_Intruder?_ Since when was Nightwing an intruder in the cave? At what time period was this that Tim hadn't met him yet?

"Is this a code red?" Oracle's voice replied, and that was a little strange to hear again since Barbara was Batgirl after the miracle surgery.

Tim hesitated and Nightwing commented, "I think I'm in the wrong time."

The boy's eyes narrowed and he said, "No. I think someone slipped between the gap between worlds. Not an enemy though."

"Good to know," Oracle replied. "I'll see who I can send your direction. Call if you need assistance before then." Abruptly the contact was terminated and Tim's full attention was on Nightwing.

"Wrong universe?" Nightwing asked, confused. How could he end up in the wrong _universe?_ Who had he annoyed so badly that they would send him to a parallel universe to get rid of him? Or was this Tim's idea of a joke? Dick wasn't sure.

"I'm pretty sure," Tim told him. "Because I've never seen that uniform before in my life." Dick could only stare at Tim in blank disbelief as a motorcycle rumbled into the cave. Then he turned and got a glimpse of who Barbara, at least he was assuming Barbara was the Oracle in this universe, had sent.

Dick's new uniform had gotten pretty battered so he had pulled out the old blue one. He was pretty sure the newcomer was him, in the uniform he'd worn as Renegade, complete with claws he associated with the Court of Owls, and Dick was fairly certain that he caught a glimpse of a couple knives tucked away somewhere.

"Dick," Tim breathed, sounding relieved and Nightwing stared. That was _him_? Dressed like that?

"Oracle said you had a situation," the newcomer replied, taking in Nightwing and then glancing back to Tim.

"I think he's in the wrong dimension," Tim replied, beckoning his universe's Dick over. The way Nightwing's counterpart moved set off all kinds of warning bells in Nightwing's head. It was a little bit like watching Deathstroke move and William Cobb slither into the shadows. Yup, Nightwing was definitely in the wrong universe.

As if to confirm this statement, Oracle suddenly spoke up, saying, "Renegade, Red Hood wants you back out here for a minute. I'm going to send Batman and Batgirl in to check on what's going on in the cave. I'd advise you not to wait for them. Hood sounded pretty strange."

"Understood," Renegade replied, pausing only a moment to squeeze Tim's shoulder before heading for his motorcycle, leaving Nightwing alone with a Tim who was definitely not his little brother Tum.

* * *

Jason Todd had seen a lot of strange things before, he'd come back to life which pretty much took the cake, but accidentally knocking out himself, presumably from another universe, was not how he'd thought he was going to spend his evening. The result was that he'd promptly told Oracle, who he knew was listening, to get Renegade over here while Deathstroke smirked from somewhere behind him. Slade Wilson had hung around after the Court of Owls had been taken care of, much to Bruce's annoyance. Jason didn't really care. The first time he'd met Slade Wilson was when he'd still been Robin and had been patrolling with Renegade one of the few times that the older boy was actually in Gotham. It had been an interesting first meeting, to say the least.

Renegade appeared exactly seven and a half minutes after the call, took one look at the downed and definitely slighter Red Hood, and let out an exasperated sigh. "This kind of thing happen before kid?" Wilson questioned and Renegade shot him a flat look.

"What is going on?" Jason demanded and his brother shrugged at him.

"Oracle mentioned that Robin said something about gaps between universes," Dick said after a moment.

"So you have no clue then," Jason grumbled as his counterpart groaned and began to stir.

"None," Renegade replied and Slade snorted. "Shut up," Jason's big brother added in Slade's general direction.

"I wasn't going to say anything kid," the mercenary replied but the voice tone said he was lying. Jason smirked a little bit under his helmet as his counterpart slowly sat up.

"What the hell is going on? Other Jason demanded.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Jason told his counterpart.

* * *

"So how are we going to get home?" Nightwing questioned, feet swinging back and forth like a child as he sat on one of the tables. Bruce found himself wondering if this was what Dick would have been like if the Court had never taken him after his parents had died. Tim, as soon as Cass and Bruce had arrived, had limped his way upstairs claiming that the whole situation was just too strange for him. Cass had nodded in agreement and followed Tim, carefully making sure that he didn't fall on the way to the manor. That had left Bruce alone with Nightwing until Renegade and Red Hood had returned with another Red Hood that Nightwing obviously recognized.

Renegade seemed more amused than anything else about the whole situation and had dragged Jason off to spar in a far corner of the cave, leave Bruce to deal with a chatty Nightwing and what appeared to be an angry and sulking Red Hood. Bruce and the Jason from his universe had actually ended up talking things out after Dick had worked with Tim to lock the two of them in a room together after two days of listening to them argue. From the way Nightwing and Red Hood went around in circles from time to time and what he understood of their conversations, their Batman hadn't done that. Bruce silently thanked whatever higher power was listening for Renegade being willing to do what had to be done and Robin acting as Renegade's current moral compass. It seemed to have worked out in their favor.

"The League is working on that now," Bruce replied while answering yet another question Flash had sent his direction about the entire situation.

"Soon?" Red Hood demanded, voice sharp. "Because I have things to do that involve being far away from this idiot." He motioned towards Nightwing and Bruce resisted the urge to let out a put upon sigh. As if sensing his frustration, Dick simply appeared next to him, Jason trailing behind him.

"This is a situation that is going to require patience," Bruce said, casting a questioning glance at his oldest child. Dick's gaze was mostly unfathomable, despite the fact that he'd removed his mask and uniform a while ago. Jason nudged Dick a little on the way by, grumbling playfully about getting way more bruises than had been strictly necessary out of that particular sparring session.

" _You_ get along with _him_?" Red Hood questioned, sounding disbelieving, and Jason tossed him a smirk.

"Listen to me buddy," he drawled, seeming incredibly amused by the statement. "If your Dick is anything like mine then he dealt badly with your death, except judging by the costume difference you Dick Grayson wasn't ever trained by the Court of Owls so his reaction wasn't to attempt to murder the Joker and then go kill half a dozen people with Slade Wilson after Bruce threw him out of Gotham." Both Nightwing and Red Hood stared at Jason who let out an irritated sigh and rolled his eyes. "You know what, just keeping arguing like little kids. See if I care."

"That is…impressive," Dick commented after Jason's retreating back. "Considering it's coming from someone who attempted to murder his little brother when he came back to life and yelled at me when I showed back up in Gotham."

"Says murder boy," Jason threw back, heading towards the showers. Dick was unfazed about the reference to him killing, as he normally was when anyone but Bruce brought it up. When Bruce mentioned Dick killing, his oldest tended to become defensive. Most the time, Bruce let Slade Wilson take care of Dick's psychological issues. They tended to actually get worked out when Wilson brought them up.

"Murder boy?" Red Hood asked incredulously.

"Most recently Blockbuster and some chick named Catalina Flores," Jason called before he vanished completely from sight.

"Actually my most recent kill would be William Cobb, if he actually qualifies," Dick commented dryly, just loud enough that Jason would be able to hear him.

"You _kill_?" Nightwing asked, sounding as if the entire world had just been turned upside down for him. The alternate universe Dick looked back and forth between Renegade and Bruce as if waiting for one of them to laugh and declare the whole thing a joke.

"Occasionally," Renegade said. Then he turned to Bruce and added "J'onn has a question for you by the way." Bruce took the hint and turned back to the computer, content to allow his oldest son to work out the situation.

"You kill?" Red Hood said thoughtfully. "And _he_ still lets you be part of the family?"

"I didn't when I was Robin," Renegade replied. "But I have become my own person now with my own rules." Bruce caught a glimpse of a rueful smile that crossed his oldest son's face for a moment. "It took a while to convince Bruce of that though." Red Hood hummed slightly and fell silent as Renegade headed for the stairs that led to the manor, obviously done for the night. In the sudden silence, Bruce could hear the sound of Jason's running shower. Allowing that to fade into the background, Bruce turned his full attention to the task at hand.

* * *

The Justice League of that universe got them home after approximately six hours. Most of those hours were spent sitting in the cave in silence after Renegade's little revelation, neither Jason nor Dick sure what to say. They both ended up standing in an airport in China in their own universe staring at each other awkwardly. They'd changed into civilian clothing courtesy of their counterparts in that other universe, counterparts that were oddly friendly with one another, and their uniforms were in used duffel bags.

"So, uh," Jason said after a moment. "I have to call Roy and Kori."

"Tell them hi for me," Dick said sadly, knowing after all this time that he couldn't fix things with Jason. He'd screwed them up so badly when they'd first met. He'd just been so angry with Bruce about the man simply giving away his mother's name for him that he hadn't bothered to get to know Jason as a person. Then his little brother had come back from the dead bitter and angry and it had already been far too late. Jason nodded and turned to leave only to hesitate a moment, as if he wanted to say something. Then he vanished into the crowd with his bag, leaving Dick standing alone in the airport.

Dick debated for a moment before heading to the pay phones. It took him ten minutes to charm quarters off a pretty woman and then he was listening to the phone ring. "Wayne Manor," Alfred said after two rings and Dick let out a sigh of relief.

"Alfie, it's Dick. You will not believe the night I just had."


	11. In The Shadow of the Owl

**Summary:** Slade tracks the boy assassin, Robin, to Gotham City in the middle of the Night of the Owls. Follow up to The Impossible Boy.

* * *

It took some work to figure out who the boy had been, but at last Slade had begun to discover a name. Robin. It sounded so innocent and childlike, so completely wrong for the feral little vigilante the mercenary had clashed with several nights previously. Still, it explained the brilliant red mixed in with the black of the uniform the boy had been wearing.

The name had led Slade to a series of articles about the teamwork of Gotham's Dynamic Duo. The mercenary knew that Batman, Bruce Wayne really, was notoriously cold but turning a child into a feral tool was beyond anything Slade would have thought the hero of Gotham might have done. Slade was going to find the boy and if he learned the Bat had trained Robin this way, he would eliminate the so called hero. It would be no less than Batman would deserve.

The streets of Gotham were in more chaos than usual, people running, glancing up towards the rooftops and occasionally screaming as they ran. Slade followed the frightened glances upwards and caught sight of a billboard, words inscribed on it in blood. _Speak not a whispered word or they'll send a Talon for your head._ The blood was still dripping, obviously fresh, and he thought he caught a glimpse of a shadow shaped like a human peering down from a nearby building. After a moment the shadow shifted and was gone. Slade frowned, reminded of the boy from Bludhaven, and reached over to grab one of the in uniform cops trying to control the situation.

"What is going on?" the mercenary snarled before the man had even turned to face him. Slade caught a brief glimpse of irritation on the man's face before the cop took in the mercenary's uniform. The man gulped.

"Umm, we uh, we believe that the Court of Owls is attempting to take over Gotham City." The officer looked as if he didn't quite believe what he was saying but Slade also couldn't see any signs that the young man was lying.

The Court of Owls was a myth local to Gotham. It told the story of a group of conspirators who secretly controlled Gotham, the puppet masters pulling the strings behind the most influential people in the city. Whispers insisted that very little happened outside of the Court's control but that was supposed to be a foolish conspiracy theory. The Court of Owls wasn't actually supposed to exist. Judging by the look on the frazzled cop's face, the young man knew that already. Slade nodded and released him, heading deeper into the city.

The further he went into Gotham, leaving the more prosperous sectors behind, the emptier the streets became. Slade did see dead bodies scattered here and there, some killed by their fellow Gothamites and some by having their throat's ripped open by claws. Neither one was a pretty sight but it wasn't something Slade hadn't seen before.

Something dripped from the sky, gleaming a dark red in the moonlight when Slade held out a gloved hand. Blood. The mercenary looked up in time to see the swish of Robin's red lined cape. He'd found exactly who he was looking for. Slade jumped towards a rusty fire escape, hoping it would hold his weight, and began his ascent.

He arrived on the rooftop in time to see a man dressed in a feather cloak and brown leather armor pinning Robin to the ground. The small boy was attempting to struggle free, teeth bared in a bloody snarl. The man looming over Robin chuckled, clawed hands cutting through the boy's suit and into his slim arms, causing more blood to join the steadily growing puddle created by the boy's injuries.

"Won't you ever learn?" the man asked, voice low and pleased. "You are one of us, and you will come back into the fold. It is your choice whether it is the easy way or the hard way."

"I am never going back to the Court," the boy snarled, thrashing. The man bounced Robin's head off the roof, making the boy fall still.

"You are mine boy. My protege, my talon to mold as I wish."

"I am not yours," the boy growled only to let out a whine of pain and start squirming when the man retrieved a knife and sunk it through the boy's shoulder. Slade had seen and heard enough.

His katana hissed slightly as it was removed from its sheath and the man rose fluidly to his feet, two slim blades slipping easily into brown gloved hands. There was a wild, feral smile on his face, like he was looking forward to spilling blood. Slade did not intend to give him that chance. Before the two of them could clash, a blade flew through the air, sinking deep into the man's shoulder. The cloaked figure hissed as the boy stood, wavering slightly but smiling that blood coated, feral grin. The wound he'd pulled the knife from was hissing and oozing but he was ignoring it as he said, "You shouldn't give me the weapons to fight back."

"Foolish child," the man hissed but Robin let out a little crazy cackle, wavering on his feet.

"I'm done with you Cobb," Robin replied. "And so is this city." That was when, as if on cue, Batman seemed to drop from the sky, taking Cobb down. The man let out a screech of rage and the boy wobbled, almost completely collapsing. That was all the prompting Slade needed to make his way around the fighting. The boy eyed him warily but didn't protest as Slade helped support him.

"Are you okay kid?" the mercenary asked and the kid tilted his head slightly as blood continued to drip from various tears in his uniform.

"The cuts will heal," the boy replied, tone blank.

"That wasn't what I asked," Slade replied dryly, pulling them both back as the Bat's cape snapped in their face.

"It does not matter," the boy said, dismissing the entire issue. It was a pathetic sidestep attempt.

"If it didn't matter, I wouldn't be asking kid."

"Maybe I don't want to tell you," the kid retorted and Slade snorted.

"Nice try, but still horrible deflection." That earned him an irritated scowl that was almost cute. "Try again."

"I will recover," the kid admitted after a moment as they both watched Cobb escape off the roof, the Bat hesitating on the edge. "Eventually. With any luck, not many people will have to drive during the recovery."

"Better," Slade said, squeezing the boy's shoulder before nodding at the Bat. "Take care of the kid Bat, or you'll have me to deal with." Then he took a leaf out of the escaped Cobb's book and stepped off the edge of the roof, leaving boy and Bat behind.


	12. Prompt III

**Anonymous asked: Dick accidentally got turned to a dragon, and slade just confused on what to do. (prompt thing)**

**Summary** : Uh…talon!Dick gets turned into a dragon while with the Titans and sort of trolls Slade. That's pretty much it, really.

* * *

One thing experience had taught Dick Grayson was that magic was not a good thing. Especially not when directed at him. Take now for example. For the first time in his life, Dick had actually found himself as part of a team of misfits that didn't believe someone's past defined a person. The Titans (Beast Boy, Starfire, Raven, and Cyborg) all had past struggles of their own but they didn't let that stop them. They defined themselves every time they fought and that was something Dick, even with his reputation as Renegade, could get behind. Unfortunately that was really difficult when Malchior, an enemy Raven had faced before, somewhat escaped his book and had decided to turn Dick into a dragon. Granted, he was only about three feet long from nose to tail and couldn't breathe fire but still, _dragon_. It was a problem.

"I do not understand," Starfire was saying as she hovered about a foot above the ground. "How is our friend a fire breathing reptile." The Tameranian had been at the mall with a seemingly reluctant, but secretly amused, Raven when Malchior had escaped, leaving the three male Titans struggling to figure out exactly what had happened. Raven had accepted the explanation easily when the pair had returned but Starfire was having a hard time with it. Apparently on Tameran, people did not just simply turn into animals. Dick squawked, unable to actually speak, while Cyborg shrugged helplessly.

"We don't know," Beast Boy commented, trying to help the situation but not really sure what to do. "I mean, one minute he was regular old Renegade and the next, _BAM_ , dragon." Starfire frowned, obviously still a little confused by the entire situation, but didn't press further. Raven ignored them all, pouring over her assorted spell books as she searched for a way to change Dick back. The former assassin had complete faith in her abilities but he also knew that these things took time. He was probably going to be a miniature dragon for a while.

The next thought that reached Dick was that Slade was in town. The mercenary had been hanging around Jump, probably to keep an eye on him, and Dick wasn't going to pass up a chance to see the look on the man's face when he found out about this particular transformation. Dick already knew he could fly, one of the perks of being a winged animal that technically speaking shouldn't actually exist, so it was a simple matter to find and open window while Raven, after a quick psychic conversation, told the others he would be back soon.

Dick glided high in the sky towards where he knew Slade had set up camp, the mercenary hadn't exactly gone to great lengths to hide his whereabouts, so he headed there. The gears inside were ridiculous and liable to annoy Slade soon enough with their clicking but definitely the merc's style. Creepy and mysterious. The former assassin turned hero turned dragon rolled his eyes and glided towards where he guessed the computers were at. Research and technology were always good ways to locate Slade if he was staying in for the day. The boy landed on the man's shoulder and then let out a disgruntled sound when the man swatted him off. That noise was, apparently, enough to catch the mercenary's attention.

Slade spun his chair around and then froze when he took in the figure of a tiny dragon with black scales and a red V across his chest. For a moment, the only sound the clicking of the gears and the hissing of steam. "Dick?" the man asked after a moment and Dick chirped out an affirmation. The mercenary stared and Dick let out little snorts of laughter, smoke puffing out of his nostrils. "How-?" the mercenary asked, trailing off as if not certain about what he wanted to ask. Dick shrugged in response, unable to explain in English what had happened. When Slade remained quiet he decided to conveniently forget that and started telling the whole story in clicks, chirps, and whistles. It was sort of like being a dolphin except Dick was pretty sure he couldn't breathe underwater.

"Okay, okay," the mercenary said, shaking himself out of whatever thoughts he'd fallen into. "You can't talk. I get it." Dick let out that snorting laugh again and this time Slade rolled his eyes. "Are your friends working on a solution?" Dick nodded and the man sighed. "So you're just here for laughs." Dick gave the man a very toothy grin, which earned him a swat he wasn't quite coordinated enough in this form to dodge. Dick made another disgruntled sound which Slade ignored as he turned the chair around and started typing.

Curious, the young man turned dragon clicked across the room and used his claws to climb up the back of the chair and lean over Slade's shoulder. The mercenary didn't comment, just continued his research as if Dick weren't even there. Or maybe as if Dick was still human. Strange way of coping, but the young man wasn't sure he'd expected anything less. Eventually he fell asleep with his head resting on the mercenary's shoulder. He was so far out of it that he didn't notice when Slade reached up to stroke his head like he was some kind of house cat.

He woke up when Slade's computer chimed and blinked open cat like yellow-gold eyes to see Cyborg appear on the screen via some sort of webcam. "Hey, Raven said Renegade was with you," Dick's friend commented without any kind of polite introduction.

"He is," Slade confirmed just as Cyborg began to grin, eyes obviously falling on Dick's form.

"So I see," Cyborg replied wryly. "Mind coming home Renegade? Raven thinks she has this figured out."

Dick chirped in acknowledgement and Beast Boy, who had apparently been listening off screen, stuck his head around and said, "Awesome dude!"

"We'll see you soon," Cyborg said before shutting off the camera. Dick let out a clicking noise in Slade's ear and as swatted off the chair.

"Get moving kid," the mercenary ordered. "You can come back and see me when you're human again." Dick snorted and took flight, ready to be back in a more comfortable body.


	13. Prompt IV

**Anonymous asked: Renegade!Dick spends time With Slade (prompt)**

**Summary:** Dick and Bruce argue. Dick decides to go bother Slade in response. Takes place before Jason becomes Robin.

* * *

"Gotham just keeps getting weirder," was the only explanation Slade got for a fifteen year old climbing through the window of hotel he was currently housed in in a town a few miles away from said city. The mercenary didn't so much as blink at the interruption, used to it by now, but his guest wasn't.

Floyd Lawton, known in the criminal underworld as Deadshot, looked almost as if someone had thrown a live grenade into the room "What exactly is going on?" the gun for hire asked after a moment of glancing between the red and black clad young vigilante and the impassive mercenary.

"Long day," was Slade's dry response as he removed a file folder he had tucked away before he'd begun this meeting. He had guessed that Dick would be dropping by tonight because the boy had been doing so in ever increasing intervals. He and the Bat were apparently fighting almost constantly and Batgirl, Barbara Gordon, could only help so much. That meant Slade was by now used to someone climbing through his window in full uniform at strange times. "All the information you need is here and you know how to contact me if something goes wrong," the mercenary continued as Deadshot simply stared at him. Slade shook the folder once pointedly and the sniper took it automatically, still looking stunned.

"Look," Dick said with an exasperated sigh. "I don't know what you're planning and _I. Don't. Care._ So take the folder and get out of here." Deadshot blinked, still looking a little stunned, and glanced at Slade.

"Go on," the mercenary told the sniper with a small smirk. "This will take a while."

"Fine," Deadshot said and backed cautiously out of the room as if he wasn't quite sure they were still connected to the rest of the universe. Slade's smirk widened and he turned to face the boy.

"So what happened this time?"

"Did you know there is some kind of mutant cross between a human and a crocodile running around Gotham?" Dick demanded, body thrumming with barely contained energy.

"Hmm," Slade replied, knowing already that Dick didn't really want to talk about whatever mutant was running around Gotham this week.

"That's it?" the boy demanded indignantly, arms twitching and then dropping to his sides as his hands clenched into fists.

The mercenary didn't so much as blink at the obvious show of irritation, instead saying, "We both know that isn't why you're here."

The boy began pacing almost instantly, the restless energy too much for him to contain. Slade watched and waited for the inevitable explosion, as was his habit in these situations. Normally within a couple minutes Dick would spill out whatever was bothering him but tonight that didn't seem to be the case. Instead the kid was still pacing, hands clenched into fists and mouth pulled into a silent snarl. After a minute of watching, the mercenary's hand snapped out to grab the kid's bicep. Dick was jerked to an abrupt stop, a startled cry slipping through his lips as his whole body tensed. Slade ignored that, used to the kid's twitches and tics by now, and dragged Dick around so he could look the kid in the eyes.

"Tell me," he ordered and watched as Dick stiffened further before going limp.

"I can't do this anymore," the boy hissed, teeth clenched. "I can't."

"Have you talked to him?" Slade questioned although he could guess how any conversation revolving around Dick's compulsion to kill had gone. Bruce Wayne didn't tolerate killing and that policy was hurting his adopted son, not that that knowledge would convince Wayne to change.

" _Talk?_ " the kid scoffed, confirming the mercenary's suspicions. "Every conversation I try to have with him lately turns into a huge screaming match. I just can't do this anymore." The boy was shaking with suppressed emotion, eyes wide and blank and beginning to turn yellow-gold. Slade shook his head slightly at the whole situation and released the kid's arm, letting him go back to pacing.

"Do you want my advice?" he asked when the pacing slowed a couple minutes later. Fully yellow-gold eyes settled on him and the kid stilled, head tilted slightly in a way that always reminded Slade of a confused puppy. "Ditch the Bat."

Dick scowled and opened his mouth to protest or snarl something at the mercenary but Slade held up a hand to silence him. "Listen to me for a moment. I'm not suggesting that you leave permanently. I'm simply saying you need to forge your own identity and your own rules. Get some space between you and him to figure out what code you want to live your life by. Then you can work on making him accept that." He waited while Dick considered his suggestion, unsure whether or not the kid would actually agree to it or not.

"I don't know," Dick said at last but his eyes were slowly turning back to deep blue instead that almost eerie yellow-gold.

"Think about it," Slade said and Dick nodded, slumping tiredly against the wall. The mercenary smirked and turned back to his computer, saying, "The couch turns into a bed. I'd advise you use it instead of trying to get back to Gotham." He didn't get a verbal response but the sound of Dick shuffling around the room to remove the cushions from the couch was answer enough.


	14. Prompt V

**Anonymous asked: Can i please have Dick falling ill and slade just take care of him like a dad kind off, btw i love your writing ^u^**

Takes place in the talon!dick verse not long after Dick takes on the identity of Renegade.

* * *

They'd been working together in Bludhaven when it happened. Slade hadn't even know that the kid could get sick so waking up at four in the morning to the sound of retching in Renegade's little apartment had been a shock. The weather had been dismal, which wasn't entire unexpected considering that were in a nightmarish town in New Jersey in late January, but the kid hadn't seemed bothered by it all. They'd been out from sunset until a little after two in the morning in the freezing rain without catching a single glimpse of their intended prey before calling it quits and heading back towards the bleak apartment Dick called home. The kid had seemed fine then but Slade was willing to admit that he was still learning to read Dick Grayson correctly.

Now, watching the kid swipe a hand over his mouth and flush the toilet before standing on shaky legs, Slade had a feeling that this was going to be a long day. The kid studied him for a moment and then stumbled past him, heading for the single bedroom in the apartment. Slade followed close behind him, not entirely sure Dick would be able to walk by himself, and his suspicions were confirmed when the kid practically flopped face first on the bed.

Slade sighed and picked the kid up, glad he was still small since that made him easier to maneuver. That earned him an irritated grumbled that somehow turned into a plaintive whine, one shaky hand coming up to grip the mercenary's shirt. "Easy kid," Slade said when Dick made another unhappy sound and settled him under the blankets, hopefully in a position where the kid wouldn't suffocate himself.

The kid had just nestled into the blankets when his cell phone started ringing shrilly. Dick groaned and Slade snatched it open, flipping the crappy piece of technology open and saying, "Yes?"

"You aren't Dick," came the worried and irritated female response.

"No," Slade replied. "The kid's sick, can I take a message?"

"It depends," came the reply, complete with the sound of keys clicking. "On who exactly you are."

"I hope you aren't expecting an answer to that," Slade replied, smoothing a hand over the kid's forehead and wincing a little at the warmth.

"Not at all," came the smooth reply. "In fact, I'm looking at you right now." There was something smug in her voice. "Mind telling him to call me when he's better?"

"And who exactly am I telling him to call?"

"Batgirl," came the smug reply. The girl hung up before Slade could get out another word.

"You have interesting friends kid," Slade informed the sleeping boy before settling down next to him and settling in for a long day. For most of the morning Dick tossed and turned, stuck in a feverish dream world, but he jolted awake around noon, gasping for breath. "You're okay," Slade said without looking up from the reports he'd eventually decided to reread.

Dick let out a little moan and slumped back to the pillows, blue eyes drifting shut. "This stink," the kid groaned after a moment, tugging the blankets up over his head. Slade snorted and pulled the blankets down so that the kid wouldn't suffocate himself when he went back to sleep. That earned him an irritated little growl as the kid resettled and drifted back off to sleep.


	15. A Good Man Is Hard To Find

**Summary:** Bruce Wayne's back is snapped by Bane and he ends up in a coma in Gotham General while former talon Dick Grayson struggles (and fails) to hold everything together. Takes place a couple years after The Darkness Within.

* * *

Bruce Wayne, billionaire and Gotham City's White Knight, as well as secretly being Batman, was lying in a bed in the ICU of Gotham General. Bane had broken into the cave while Dick was in Bludhaven on a case, Jason was in Hong Kong with Cass, and Steph, Tim, and Damian were working on a different case. The Venom enhanced criminal had snapped Bruce's back and even if he woke, he would never be able to fight crime again. Worse yet, only Babs had been on the comms to hear the whole thing and she wasn't talking to Dick, likely blaming him for not answering his comm and coming to help. She wouldn't be wrong. Dick pressed his head into his hands and forced down the hot tears that wanted to escape his eyes. The darkness of his room, normally so soothing, simply felt oppressive now. He felt like he was drowning in something he couldn't quite name but he couldn't let it show. Not with his younger siblings downstairs, hurting and angry and needing his help. He couldn't afford to let them down.

After a moment of sitting and shaking in the dark, Dick straightened up and let out a trembling breath, forcing a reassuring smile on his face. The smile lasted until he heard the commotion downstairs. Jason was shouting and looming over a furious and crying Tim. Damian was yelling, possibly swearing, in Arabic while Steph was trying to yank Jason away from Tim. Cass had her hands over her ears, a pained look in her eyes when they fell on Dick, practically begging him to fix this. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at that.

Alfred, who would normally calm down a situation like this, was sitting at Bruce's side in Gotham General, and only because Dick had reassured the butler that everything would be okay. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he stepped forward and gently nudged Steph aside, The blonde silenced in mid snarl, watching with wide eyes as Dick simply picked Jason up and placed the irate Red Hood behind him. Both Damian and Jason silenced while Tim stood upright and looked at the floor. Dick felt as if he should say something but words escaped him. Instead he turned and left the room.

* * *

Patrolling wasn't going any better than their in house communication. Without Oracle talking to him, Renegade was kept out of the loop. Luckily Babs was still directing the others but it wasn't keeping Gotham in order. The city was in chaos, not helped by Bane somehow hacking into the news an announcing that he had broken the Bat. Batman's continued absence hadn't helped matters and criminals were running amok, not even bothering to be cowed by Red Hood and Renegade. Gotham City was turning into Hell and Dick felt like there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Renegade crouched on a rooftop, peering down at the chaos below. He'd seen none of his siblings tonight and his channel on the comm was silent, as it had been for the past few days. The weight of that single sign of disapproval was enough to make him feel empty inside. Part of him was aware that he was becoming something he would regret later but caring was becoming beyond him. It was as if all his emotions were being drained away.

Yellow-gold eyes studied his surroundings, taking in the chaos that Bane's continual attempts to completely take over Gotham City was causing. Parts of the city were burning but there was no screams. The people of Gotham were too used to situations like this to scream. Instead most had locked themselves away, leaving only police officers in the line of fire. Any trouble was normally centered around them and the more officers that died, the more they blamed the local vigilantes. It was a terrible situation to be in and yet another reason for Dick to feel guilty.

Honestly, guilt was the only emotion he had left. Everything else was draining away from him like water slipping through his fingers and he didn't have the will to hold on to them. His family was falling apart, his few friends were struggling to hold Jump City together, and Gotham was a wreck. Dick was nothing more than a failure trapped in the middle of this mess. He couldn't fix it, couldn't even hold it together, so instead he was turning into his worst nightmare; a talon.

The sound of gunfire drew his attention and his head swiveled towards the left, eyes falling on the form of a retreating cop. Three men obviously hyped up on a weaker version of Venom, advanced towards the cop, grinning and cracking their knuckles. Dick dropped down from the sky without a second thought, letting the window temporarily blow his worries away.

* * *

"You really should talk Renegade," Jason said over the comm once he'd finished taking down two idiots who'd tried to steal TVs from a local technology store.

"No I shouldn't," Barbara Gordon, known to the superhero community at large as Oracle, replied. "I always make things worse whenever I talk to him about something delicate. Besides, he has you."

"He isn't exactly talking to me," Jason replied with a sigh. "He isn't talking to _anyone_." Babs fell silent then and Jason sighed, knowing that the conversation was over.

Red Robin dropped down next to him, landed almost silently. "Have you seen Renegade?" the younger boy asked, mask covered eyes looking directly at Jason's.

"No," the older boy replied grimly. They both knew Dick wasn't taking Bruce's current condition well. They also both suspected that the former assassin was blaming himself and that Barbara's continued silence wasn't helping matters but fixing either problem was a bit beyond them. The obvious solution would be getting Deathstroke to talk to their older brother but they hadn't been able to contact the mercenary. Worse yet, the Titans were struggling with problems of their own and Dick wasn't talking to any of his siblings either. That meant they were currently sorry-out-of-luck. It wasn't a good feeling.

"There's a couple cops being attacked four blocks west of your current location," Oracle said, voice brisk and business like. "Take care of it please." Jason went to move but Tim didn't.

"Red Hood will take care of it," the third Robin said, voice firm. "I'm going to find Renegade."

* * *

The Cave felt empty with the rest of the family out fighting crime. Not even the bats that made their home here had lingered tonight and Dick's footsteps were completely silent as he made his way across the damp floor. He had ditched his comm somewhere in the twists and turns of Gotham City, dropping it from the roof of a building and watching impassively as it had plummeted towards the street below. If no one was going to speak to him then there was really no point in hanging on to it. Now he headed for the case that locked away a uniform he hadn't been able to bring himself to look at since the incident with Bane.

The case opened easily at a touch of his fingers and he carefully removed the uniform, not a hint of uncertainty in his movements. Gotham City needed a Batman and none of his other siblings should have to shoulder that burden. Expression completely blank, he took the uniform and headed towards a tunnel turned into a locker room so he could change.

Everything about the Batman uniform felt wrong. Dick had never really liked capes, they reminded him too much of the feather cloaks the Court had often forced their talons to wear, but that wasn't the only problem. Nothing fit right. Dick was nowhere near as tall or as broad across the shoulders as Bruce had been so the fabric was loose everywhere. Dick tucked what he could and then walked into the main part of the cave, heading for the Batmobile. Hopefully this way he could draw Bane out and save Gotham, because knowing his genetics he certainly wasn't going to die trying.

The Batmobile rumbled out of the cave, Dick tucked away inside. Alfred, who had been descending into the cave, arrived too late to stop him. The vehicle entered the city with a dull roar, sliding smoothly around other vehicles on the road. The Batsignal was lit, just like it had been since Bane had announced he'd broken the Bat, and Dick headed for it, fully focused on his goal. He was going to make Bane regret ever coming to Gotham without tarnishing Batman's legacy. He was the only one with the strength and healing factor available to do so.

It took several minutes for the nervous rookie officer who'd been guarding the light when Dick arrived to fetch Commissioner Gordon. The Commissioner took one look at Dick's loose fitting uniform and frowned, hand drifting down to rest on the butt of his gun. "You aren't Batman," the man said and if Dick had felt anything at all he would have been amused by the situation.

Instead he said, "I'm all this city has left." Gordon relaxed a little, obviously recognizing Dick's voice.

"What can I do for you?"

"I need to find Bane."

"Are you sure son?" Gordon asked and Dick met the man's worried gaze head on.

"Yes."

* * *

It wasn't that Barbara Gordon was mad at Dick. She understood that he hadn't been able to help Bruce with Bane. She knew that sometimes you had to fix your own problems before you could help others. That wasn't why she wasn't talking to him, no matter what anyone else believed.

The problem with Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson was simple. When one of them was upset, they couldn't communicate properly. When everything was going well they could chat about anything. When someone was off in one of their lives they always ended up making each other more upset. When Babs had first ended up confined in the wheelchair she and Dick hadn't been able to speak with each other without arguing, screaming, or making the other person feel horrible for months. After the Blockbuster incident when Dick was still feeling low and needed a friend, Babs had only made things worse. This time she had resolved to let Dick come talk to her when he was ready in an attempt to keep things civil between them. Apparently that approach didn't work any better than when they spoke to one another though, because now Dick was dressed as Batman and in the beginning of a confrontation with Bane.

For a moment all Babs could do was stare blankly at the screen, blind panic rushing through her veins. Dick Grayson was one of her best friends and she was about to helplessly watch from her position in the Clocktower as he fought for his life against the Venom filled monster that had snapped Batman's back. Her hands trembled as they quickly clattered across the keys, calling up the images of the remaining Batfamily. "Listen up, all of you," she said, voice shaking just a little. "We have a serious problem."

* * *

Bane was not quite like anyone else Dick had ever faced. The Venom made the man stronger and more resilient than most opponents the former assassin had faced but he wasn't going to let that stop him. The cape had been torn barely minutes into the fight, which wasn't something Dick would have regretted even if he was feeling anything at all. The two circled one another, taking each other's measure.

Dick watched every movement, searching for a weakness as he had been trained both by the Court and others afterwords. He knew that every person had one, even him. It was only a matter of finding that weakness and exploiting it before your opponent discovered your weakness.

Bane's obvious flaw was the tube attached to the back of his head that fed Venom into his system. If that connection was severed or blocked somehow, Bane became just another villain to take down. In his Renegade guise, it would have been simply to take the other man down but Bruce had everything arranged differently. That made things tricky, to say the least.

Trying to buy himself a little time, Dick lashed out and bit down a curse when Bane easily dodged. A series of mostly sleepless night, too guilty to do more than toss and turn on his bed, had slowed his reflexes and made him sloppy. That fact was reinforced when Bane struck him hard in the side, sending him spinning slightly before he managed to find his foot with a snarl. Unfortunately he wasn't fast enough to avoid his head slamming against a wall. The cowl cracked under the force and his ears rang for a moment at the noise.

"Such a clumsy boy, aren't you _chico_?" Bane mocked. "And so foolish. The real Bat couldn't defeat me. What makes you think you'll do any better?"

"Because," Dick breathed, reaching up a surprisingly steady hand to removed the cowl. "I'm not Batman." Then he turned with a sinister smile, yellow eyes flashing, to face the Venom enhanced villain.

* * *

Jason was the first to reach his older brother. Ironically, that gave him the job of preventing Dick from killing an unconscious Bane before Timmy showed up and freaked out. Jason reached out a careful hand and grabbed Dick's shoulder, tugging his feral brother back,muttering "Easy Dickie-bird. It's just me," when he was snarled at. It took a moment but the wildness slowly leaked out of those wild yellow eyes, replaced with shame.

" _Dick?_ " Tim's panicked voice echoed down the alley as he came rushing into view and Dick flinched, eyes squeezing closed and head bowing. Jason squeezed his shoulder and gave Tim a thumbs up, trying to signal that everything was okay.

The Replacement was at least smart enough to wait until Dick opened his eyes and let out a shaky breath, before launching himself over the empty place to hug Dick tight. Jason watched their older brother wrap his arms carefully around Tim, as if afraid the boy might break, eyes terribly hollow, before reaching up to activate his comm. "Big Bird is fine and Bane needs a police pick up," Jason reported. "Possibly a hospital."

"On it," Barbara replied, sounding relieved at having something to do. "And Jay, thank you."

"Don't thank me," Jason replied gruffly, glad he was wearing his helmet so that no one could see him flush a little. "Talk to _him_." Then he clicked off his comm so she couldn't protest and turned his attention to Dick. "Hey, Dickie-bird?" he said hesitantly, unsure whether or not Dick would respond. Since Bruce had ended up in a coma, Jason had watched his big brother retreat further and further inside himself. The second Robin wasn't sure how far he'd actually retreated. Dick nodded after a moment, eyes focusing almost warily on Jason's face. "You're not going to be Batman."

"Then who is?" Tim questioned, his voice slightly muffled because he still had his head pressed against Dick's chest, probably listening to the sound of his heartbeat or something sappy like that.

"I am," Jason replied, grinning under his helmet, and even though Dick couldn't actually see the smile, his big brother managed a weak smile back.


	16. Renegade Makes A Friend

**Summary:** Renegade meets someone new on a rooftop in Rio. Takes place some time after The Darkness Within.

* * *

She was perched on a rooftop in the poor part of town, red-gold hair gleaming in the rapidly fading sunlight. Renegade hadn't been in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil before but he was fairly certain that this wasn't a normal sight. He hesitated on the rooftop next to hers, knowing he had some time before Slade called him over the comm to tell him where they were mission of the week, well month actually, was tracking down a Hispanic crime lord with roots in Rio named Javier Ferreira. The man in question smuggled for child prostitution and drug rings, neither one of which Dick approved of. When members of the man's organization began arriving at Bludhaven, Dick had started the work of tracking down the ringleader. When Slade had called a month ago and mentioned he had a hit on Ferreira, Dick had jumped at the chance to eliminate the man.

"Do you need something?" the girl asked him, not looking in his direction. Dick felt every muscle in his body go stiff with shock. How did she know he was there? He'd been an assassin terrifying enough to make Gotham tremble. She shouldn't have known he was there. "You can leave if you want to," she continued, still not looking at him. "And I'll pretend you were never here or you can stay and we can talk. Either one is fine with me, so long as you don't continue to sit on the other roof and stare at me."

Dick considered the situation. The Court of Owls mess been finished a few months ago but the city had been closing in on him. Despite Jason's return to life, and reluctant return to the family, he'd been feeling restless so he'd returned to Bludhaven only to run off on a mission with Slade a couple weeks after that. Since then he'd either been working with Slade or traveling to get information for their mission. Sitting down and just enjoying someone's company sounded strangely tempting.

He crossed the empty space and she patted the piece of concrete next to her, finally turning to look at him. Freckles danced across her cheeks, abruptly cut off by rather sharp cheekbones and her blue eyes gleamed like gems. She wasn't the kind of girl that would be considered cute but there was something about here that almost said she was beautiful. "Arissa Blood," she said, offering him her hand.

"Renegade," he replied, shaking her hand once, and watched as an amused smile curled its way on to her face.

"If that is what you want to go by," she told him, turning back towards the sunset. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Why are you in Rio, Miss Blood?" he asked, curious. Something about her felt familiar but he couldn't explain why.

"I'm waiting for someone," she told him, another smile rising up.

"Oh?" Dick questioned and that smile widened.

"Yes."

Realizing he wasn't going to get any more answers, he settled down to enjoy the sunset. They sat in silence until someone whistled from below. Arissa turned to look down and smiled slightly at the form of John Constantine standing in the shadows. "That's who you were waiting for?" Dick questioned, startled, and she smiled at him.

"Naturally." She stood and added, "I would check over at the mountaintop for Ferreira this evening." Then she stepped smoothly off the roof. A platform of shimmering red lowered her to the ground and she stepped beside John and vanished into the shadows, leaving a surprised and confused Renegade behind.


	17. Beware The Jabberwock

_Summary:_ Bruce thought the rest of the Justice League had forgotten about Renegade after the Thanagarian invasion. He was wrong. Takes place a week after Aftermath.

* * *

A week after the Thanagarian invasion, everything was finally going back to normal. The repairs on the Watchtower was almost complete, leaving it mostly operational. Most the heroes had returned to their home cities, J'onn and John the only two who had remained on the Watchtower. Diana had gone towards Themyscera, hoping she would be able to visit her mother despite her banishment, Flash had returned to Central, Superman to Metropolis, and Bruce had gone back to Gotham. Dick had been covering for him while he worked on the Watchtower with the rest of the League but from talking to him, the man knew that Dick was ready to head back to Bludhaven.

Bruce was ready to let him head back too. There were two problems with Dick being in Gotham at the moment. The first was that if the Justice League wanted to confront Dick, it would be simple for them to find him, though Bruce suspected they had forgotten about him. The second was the no killing rule. In Bludhaven, Dick had the freedom to kill if necessary though he used it sparingly. In Gotham, or on a mission with Batman, there was absolutely no killing but in Bludhaven or on missions with Slade the rules were different.

Bruce stepped into the Batcave and Dick's head snapped around to look at him immediately. "Are you back for good this time?" the eighteen year old questioned, looking hopeful. The past week had been difficult for both of them. Bruce had spent the week arguing with the League and trying to fix the host of computers on the Watchtower. Dick had spent the week enforcing the peace in Gotham but Batman's rules instead of his own.

"I am," Bruce confirmed, hiding his grin at the relief Dick allowed him to see. "Stay for one patrol together tonight." Dick nodded once, the barest hint of a smile slipping on to his face, and headed for the stairs. Bruce would change out of the Batman uniform and follow soon. Vigilantes or not, Alfred would have their heads if they were late for supper.

Dick had returned to Bludhaven two days previously when Bruce first became aware that the League hadn't forgotten his adopted son. It was Diana showing up unannounced in Gotham that made him aware of what could be a potential problem. He was in the middle of surveillance when the Amazon princess landed softly next to him. He greeted her with a silent nod before turning back to watching the men in the building across the street.

* * *

"I need to speak to you," Diana told him, voice low and serious.

Bruce considered the situation and then nodded once, saying, "Follow me." He led her to where the Batmobile lurked in the shadows of a dead end alley and then turned to face her. "What do you need?"

"The boy the night of the Thanagarian invasion," she said. "Who was he?"

"My son," Bruce told her, both because it was the truth and because it was the simplest answer he could give. Diana did not seem satisfied by the answer.

"He was not just that. He was something more. Something…" She hesitated a moment and then said, "Inhuman."

Bruce gave her a dark look, displeased by the word choice, but she did no back down. "That is not my story to tell," he said at last.

"Then I want to talk to him," Diana told him, tone leaving no room for argument. Bruce was not pleased. He had done his best to keep Dick away from the Justice League because he knew most of them would not understand. Diana might, simply because as an Amazon she had been taught about war, and J'onn perhaps could understand because of his past but the others would judge Dick. The eighteen year old found himself lacking often enough without someone else piling their judgement on him.

If it were anyone else, Bruce would have said no and left, but this was Diana. She, more than anyone else in the League, might be able to understand what Dick had gone through. She was the most likely not to judge him for what he'd done to survive. "On one condition," Bruce told the Amazon. "You are not to pass judgement. He doesn't need that."

"I understand," Diana said. Bruce nodded then and directed her to Bludhaven.

* * *

Bludhaven was a dark city. Diana was slowly taking in more and more of the sights in Man's World but she had to admit that Bludhaven and Gotham were the darkest places she had ever been. She scanned the rooftops, just as Batman had told her to, and caught a glimpse of a slim, dark figure scanning the ground below. Diana flew up to join him, landing with just enough noise that the boy would know she was there. She watched as his head snapped around and she knew eyes were focusing on her underneath the white lenses of his mask, assessing her.

"Wonder Woman," he said at last, voice wary.

"Renegade," she responded respectfully. Before arriving she had been burning with questions but now, looking at his tense body and how cautiously he regarded her, she began to have second thoughts. "I wondered if we could talk."

He hesitated, considering, and for a moment Diana thought he would leap off the roof in an attempt to escape. At last he nodded once, movement sharp and jerky. Diana breathed out softly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he told her, voice low and ruff. Diana's lips twitched into a smile for a moment and she got the hint of a smile back. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know about you," she told him and any expression on his face faded away. His entire body tensed so hard she thought it might break.

"You won't like any of it," he told her, voice empty.

"Many of us do not like our pasts," she told him. "That does make us any more or any less than we already are." He relaxed, just and little, and Diana sat on the edge of the rooftop, prepared to listen. His story spilled out in a slow, blood soaked stream. The Amazon princess listened, filled with a sense of sympathy for all the horrors the boy had seen and pride for making the difficult decision to survive rather than attempt suicide in the harsh conditions he had been forced to live.

Her pride only grew as she listened to him detail his escape from the cruelty that was the Court of Owls. That he had not only had the strength to flee when the right time presented itself, but that he had also returned with Batman to help stop the Court once and for all was worthy of praise. Being raised in a family of warriors, Diana understood how difficult doing such a thing would be. When he finished his story he turned his gaze towards her, looking as if he was awaiting judgement.

Diana remembered what Bruce had told her before sending her to Bludhaven and understood his caution. He did not want his son hurt more than he already had been. "I would be honored to fight at your side," she told him with a steady smile and voice.

"Thank you," he said, voice soft and a little bit choked. Diana reached out then and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense and then relax completely under the touch. They sat for a moment in silence, a car whizzing by beneath them.

"The rest of the League is curious," Diana warned. "They will want to come speak to you."

"Batman won't be happy," he replied but judging by how tense he had become, he would not be happy either.

"I could act as an ambassador between yourself and the League, if that would be acceptable," she offered.

"I would appreciate that," he said and she squeezed his shoulder before standing.

"Same time tomorrow?" He gave her another nod, this one more relaxed, and watched as she flew away.

He waited until she was out of hearing range before lifting up a hand and activating his comm, asking, "You there?"

"Yes," Bruce replied. "How did it go?"

"I like her," came the calm, surprisingly relaxed reply. "She understands."

* * *

Diana decided to start with Wally. The young speedster had a darker past than most realized. He would likely be more understanding towards the boy when he learned of the abuse Renegade had been put through. The Flash was uncommonly tense as they approached Bludhaven, gaze nervous. "What is bothering you?" she asked and he flashed her a false smile.

"Last time we met this guy he was talking about killing like it was nothing," Wally replied, sounding uncomfortable.

"He has a difficult past," Diana admitted, smiling when she spotted Renegade waiting on the rooftop just like he'd promised. "But that does not make him a bad person." Wally didn't reply but she did notice that some of the tension leached away from him as he understood what she was implying.

Diana flew them both to the roof, smile still in place as Renegade stood. He had the barest hint of a smile for her and a wary glance for the speedster at her side. He seemed in no worse condition than he had been the previous night and he did not tense when she stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder. "Flash, this is Renegade," she said, motioning a hand between the two, watching them examine one another.

Wally, with the absence of the feathered cloak and the shadows of the Batcave, took in exactly how small and young Renegade actually was. In contrast, the younger hero was taking the speedster's measure and determining exactly how difficult it would be to take him down. Diana waited for them to finish before saying, "Flash, he is going to tell his story. You are not to judge nor may you interrupt. Understand?"

"I understand," Wally confirmed.

Once again, Renegade presented his past in a monotone voice. This time Diana stayed next to him, hand resting reassuringly on his shoulder. The princess watched the sudden wash of sympathy on the speedster's face as he listened and the way the tension in his body slid away. She smiled, amused, when in the silence afterwords, Wally tentatively started a conversation. Renegade went startled and a little stiff under Diana's hand but the princess smoothed the way, easing them all into comfortable conversation. It lasted until police sirens wailed down the street and Renegade stood, launching himself off the roof without a farewell.

* * *

J'onn J'onnz was next. He and Diana flew to the rooftop only to find it empty. They waited and, after ten minutes, Renegade arrived. There was a slowly fading bruise on one cheek but otherwise he appeared to be unharmed.

"Trouble?" Diana asked.

"Nothing I can't handle," Renegade replied.

"Good," the Amazon said. "Renegade, this is J'onn J'onnz, the Martian Manhunter." The boy nodded but he seemed more closed off than he had been around Wally. Diana wondered if it was because of the Martian's psychic powers.

"You may relax young one," J'onn told the boy. "I will not invade your privacy."

"You've already tried to once," Renegade replied, tone cold. He looked as if he was ready to bolt.

"During a time of great strife," J'onn replied. "Trying to invade your mind is not something I would do under ordinary circumstances." Renegade nodded once, the movement sharp and jerky, but refused to relax. Diana had hoped that the boy would be willing to show J'onn his past instead of telling it this time but she realized now that Renegade would refuse. She did not blame him. After having people manipulate him from the moment of his parents' deaths onward, she should have guessed that he would be wary about having someone else in his head.

J'onn absorbed the narrative without surprise, but not without sympathy. Diana knew he had witnessed a terrible war on Mars before he had arrived on Earth only to be held captive by frightened and suspicious humans. He would understand much of why the boy had acted the way he had, just like Diana did, but the Amazon doubted they would ever be close. Hearing the narrative for the third time, and this time looking for events that had manipulated his psyche, she truly comprehended how wary he must be around someone who could manipulate his mind from within.

The Martian must have sensed his discomfort as well, for as soon as Renegade finished he rose. "Thank you for sharing with me," J'onn said and then rose upward into the sky, likely heading for the Watchtower.

"He doesn't mean any harm," Diana said as they watched him leave.

"I can't trust that," came the solemn reply. Diana nodded. She didn't like that, but she understood it.

* * *

Dick was tired. It wasn't a physical exhaustion, but a mental one. He didn't like thinking about his time during the Court of Owls but, in trying to calm the fears of the Justice League, he found himself telling the story over and over again. It was wearing him thin in ways he had long ago forgotten it was possible to be. There were only two more nights to go but he wasn't sure he could make it through them.

The previous night's telling had triggered a flashback when he'd arrived at his apartment, one of the looming shadows reminding him of William Cobb. He'd been a whimpering, terrified wreck for an hour before managing to shake off the flashback. He had been plagued by nightmares afterwords, adding a sense of physical tiredness on top of his emotional exhaustion.

His comm chirped and he reached out an arm to grab it, slipping the piece into his ear before activating it. "Yes?" he questioned, voice loud in the silence of his home. He'd had the television on earlier but shut it off when a news program had almost triggered another flashback.

"You busy kid?" Slade asked on the other end.

"It depends," Dick hedged and got a snort in return.

"I'm not asking you to come out here," the merc told him. "I'm asking if you have time to talk."

"I've got a couple hours."

"Good," Slade told him. "Then maybe you can explain to me why I got a message from Wayne of all people about your welfare." For a moment all Dick could do was stare blankly at the wall in front of him. Bruce had gone through the effort to contact Slade? He wasn't sure whether he should be thankful or irritated. " _Dick_ ," the man pressed in a tone that demanded an answer.

"I've been speaking with the members of the Justice League," he said, pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. "Telling them some of my story."

"How many times?"

"Three so far," Dick admitted and winced at the low growl that statement earned.

"Do you have another one tonight?"

"Yes," he admitted, wincing at the beginning of a headache. If he'd had the energy to move, he would have been up to grab some kind of painkiller but his limbs felt like lead.

"I'm coming to Bludhaven."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dick protested. The last thing he wanted was for Slade to be arrested by the Justice League.

"I'm coming to your apartment," Slade continued on as if Dick hadn't said a thing. "Which you will be returning to immediately after the events of tonight before you trigger a flashback."

"Too late," Dick muttered and Slade let out another low rumble. The former assassin turned his attention towards the clock on the wall, head throbbing in protest. The sun was sinking low in the sky but he had time still. "Where are you?" he asked, voice rough and tired.

"Give me an hour kid," Slade told him. Dick nodded. They would have an hour and ten minutes before he had to leave then. Maybe the merc would be able to help him hold the pieces together again.

* * *

Diana and John Stewart waited thirty minutes on the rooftop before Renegade arrived, climbing over the edge as if it was the most difficult thing he had ever done. He looked worn thin but his voice was determined when he said, "Let's get this over with." Diana introduced the pair. She listened to the boy's voice as he told the story again, listened to the strain. Something was wrong with him tonight, but the Amazon wasn't sure what.

Renegade stopped in mid-sentence halfway through the tale, freezing suddenly. Then he stumbled back towards the edge of the roof, body stiff. Diana let out a warning cry and then lunged forward as the boy toppled off the roof. The Amazon princess flew after him, catching his body only a story down and cradling him close even as he thrashed and twisted. She landed back on the roof, carefully cradling his head on her lap and pinning him down by the shoulders. She wasn't sure what was going on, worry twisting about her stomach.

John crouched next to her, not reaching out to touch the boy. "He's having a flashback," the man said. "We need to find some way to ground him."

"How?" Diana questioned. Though she had studied the art of war and understood the actions that were sometimes necessary during a time such as that but she had never found herself faced with an aftermath like this before.

"Talk to him," the Green Lantern told her. "I'm going to see if I can find something that might ground him." Diana nodded as John rose and flew towards the street below, turning her attention back to the boy.

"I'm sorry," she apologized in a low voice, lifting one hand to stroke through his dark hair. "I did not mean to cause you pain." His head twitched and he let out a soft whimper, body still thrashing. Diana hushed him gently. "You are safe," she told him, still petting through his hair.

John returned a moment later and landed next to her, holding small bag of ice. Diana wanted to ask how that was going to help but she sensed that now wasn't the time. She could ask all the questions she wanted after that gotten Renegade out of this flashback. She watched as John removed a chunk of ice from the bag and reached for the boy's hand. That was when a low voice rumbled, "I wouldn't do that."

Diana might not have fought against him before but she recognized Deathstroke the Terminator from the profile of him Batman had put in the Watchtower security system. "You'll only make the flashback worse," the mercenary continued, crossing the rooftop to crouch and pull the boy close.

They watched as he pulled a vial out of a pocket and opened it, holding it under the boy's nose. Renegade moaned, twisting a little and then going limp. "That's it kid," the mercenary murmured. "Shake out of it."

Renegade choked and then pulled in a deep breath, muscles tensing a little. "Slade?" The question was a low, confused rasp.

"Yeah kid," the mercenary replied. "I'm here." Renegade let out a shuddering sigh and then relaxed, breathing turning slow and easy. Deathstroke stood then, pulling the boy easily into his arms. "You've heard the story three times," he said. "I trust you can finish it." Then he turned and jumped off the roof. Diana rushed to the edge only to see the man land in a smooth crouch before marching off into the shadows.

Meanwhile John Stewart lifted his hand to his comm and activated it. "Batman," he said. "Are you aware that Deathstroke is around Renegade?"

* * *

Dick woke and found himself staring at the ceiling of his tiny bedroom in his tinier apartment. The sounds of movement nearby were constant to those of Slade when he wasn't trying to hide his presence. Maybe the merc would be able to explain how Dick had ended up here. He rolled out of bed and stood slowly, muscles feeling stiff and achy. He found himself looking at his closed bedroom door.

Taped on it was a large piece of paper on which Jason had written in large, blocky letters _'Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!'_ Dick had quoted those lines from the Lewis Carroll in an attempt to explain to his new little brother what kind of monster he was. Jason had rolled his eyes at the attempt to frighten him but two months later at Christmas he'd shoved the piece of paper into Dick's hand. Now it was one of the few things he had left to remind him of the dead boy.

Carefully Dick reached out a leaden arm and opened the door, stepping out into his apartment. "Afternoon kid," Slade said, leaning in the doorway that led from the kitchen into what was sort of a living room. Dick arched an eyebrow in his direction but didn't otherwise respond. "I told you going out last night was a bad idea."

"What happened?" Dick asked, voice raspy.

"You triggered yourself," Slade replied. "And I had to come get you before those Justice League idiots triggered you worse. Granted, the Lantern had the right idea but he was going to use ice." Dick winced at that. For most people, ice would have grounded them but for Dick, the cold would have been another trigger.

"I need to do this," Dick said, allowing himself to lean against the door frame.

"For the Bat?" the merc replied with a snort. "Doubtful. Even he wouldn't ask this of you."

"For myself," Dick retorted. "If I let what they did to me stop me from becoming something better, or even stop me from speaking about it, then they're winning." He hesitated a moment and then turned back towards the door where Jason's poster was hung. "Maybe Jay was right," he added in a softer tone. "Maybe the Court was the Jabberwocky. Maybe I am the slayer of the monster, at least for the moment, and that means I should be able to talk about it."

"You're a fool kid," Slade told him, but his voice tone was fond.

"I know," Dick replied with a slim smile. "But this is something I have to do." Slade hesitated a moment and then nodded.

"Fine. But we're doing this my way."

Dick had enough energy to muster up a smirk. "Yeah, I kind of suspected as much."

* * *

It was with trepidation that Diana led Clark to the correct rooftop. Of all the heroes in the Justice League, it was Superman's reaction that she had been most worried about. That was why she had saved him for last, thinking that it would be easier on Renegade. She was beginning to realize that she had been wrong. Instead of making things easier on him, she had made it harder.

Instead of Renegade waiting on the rooftop, it was Batman. The Dark Knight's expression was as emotionless as ever, though Diana was certain he was radiating disapproval. "Bruce?" the Kryptonian beside her questioned, sounding puzzled, but Diana was awash with concern.

"Is he hurt?" she demanded.

"He is as well as can be expected," the Bat replied gruffly and the Amazon nodded. "Follow me," Bruce added before leading the way off the roof. The pair followed him down several streets before they all stopped on a rooftop."If either of you tells anyone about your location," Batman warned them. "You will live long enough to regret it." Silently Diana wondered whether it would be Bruce or Deathstroke who would take their vengeance as she nodded in agreement.

The pair were led to a tiny apartment and Batman rapped on the door. A man who Diana suspected was Deathstroke outside of uniform, answered the door, letting them inside with a dark glare. Renegade was curled up on a raggedy looking couch, a thick blanket wrapped around his form despite the warmth of the room and a tablet was on his lap. A light laugh issued from the glowing device and Diana watched as a soft, fond smile crossed the young vigilante's face for a moment.

"I've got to go Oracle, but I'll call you back after this is done," he told whoever was on the other end and then clicked it off before looking up at them. Diana smiled hesitantly at him and received a slim smile in return. "All right," the boy said, settling more comfortably on the couch. "Let's get this over with."

A half an hour later Superman and Wonder Woman left the apartment. A distinct look of disapproval was fixed on the Kryptonian's face as the pair flew towards where Diana had left the Javelin. The Amazon princess had known that Clark would not be able to understand why Renegade had chosen to behave the way he had. Diana had appreciated Bruce being there, the man's menacing stare just daring Clark to say anything. Despite being mostly invincible, Superman didn't dare cross Batman.

"I don't trust him," Clark said when they landed next to the Javelin.

"I do," Diana replied firmly. The alien frowned but didn't say anything further, simply shaking his head and flying upwards toward space. Diana shook her head before stepping inside the Javelin, knowing that it would take a long time for Clark to ever consider that what Renegade had done had been necessary for the boy's survival. She only hoped the Kryptonian would learn to understand before he said something that made any chance of a friendship between himself and the boy impossible.


	18. Little Wing and Murder Boy

_Summary:_ Jason Todd becomes Robin and meets a very ticked off Renegade.

* * *

It felt like some kind of fairy tale instead of real life. Jason had stolen several of the tires off the Batmobile, because apparently having security on a car was for people who weren't Batman, only to be caught by the caped crusader himself. He'd expected to be locked away in juvie, not taken back to Batman's secret lair for what was perhaps the most shocking identity reveal of his life. Now, after a month of training, Jason Todd was about to become Robin. It felt too good to be true.

He stood in front of the only mirror in the Batcave, inspecting himself. The Robin uniform was a simple piece of black and red with a yellow lined cape. Nothing flashy and the only part of Jason's skin that was showing was his face. The Kevlar and Nomex weave would afford good protection from bullets and fire, and the suit was overall designed for practicality rather than to catch attention. According to Wayne, it was almost identical to the uniform the first Robin had worn. Jason wasn't sure what he thought about that.

In some ways, wearing the same uniform of the original made him feel as if he was nothing more than a pale replacement for someone Wayne could no longer control. In another way, Jason felt proud to be standing there. He was no longer a street kid with dead parents. Instead he was Robin, Batman's partner and a symbol of justice. It was something he'd never imagined he would be. Gotham ate people, especially children, who lived on the streets alive, swallowing their screams and cries for help. He was lucky to escape from all that.

Footsteps drew his attention towards the stairs that led from the study of Wayne Manor into the cave. He expected to see Wayne coming down the stairs but instead it was the prodigal son, Dick Grayson. The press thought Grayson had been visiting some out of country business assets but Jason knew better. Wayne's ward and the man himself had been arguing before Grayson had finally stormed out and gone who knows where. Wayne said he wasn't tracking the sixteen year old but Jason knew better.

Grayson made his way down the steps, the strap of a duffel slung over one shoulder, and headed for the computer, freezing when his eyes fell on Jason. His relaxed demeanor faded away and his blue eyes turned icy. "Who are you?" he demanded, voice sharp and cold.

"I'm Robin," Jason said, drawing himself up to his full height. He barely caught a glimpse of Grayson wincing before those icy eyes turned furious. Gold began to swell from the pupils towards the outer edge of the eye, making it gleam.

"No you aren't," Grayson growled, hands clenching into fists.

Jason opened his mouth to protest just as Wayne stepped into view, saying, "Dick."

"What is going on?" Dick Grayson growled, whirling around the face the man.

"Jason is going to be Robin now."

"No," Grayson grated out as if the words physically pained him. "He isn't."

"That's not your decision to make." Wayne's voice was steady but his blue-grey eyes sparked with anger.

"Oh really?" Grayson let out a dry bark of laughter. "You hand away what I have left of my mother like it was a piece of clothing I had outgrown and it isn't my decision. How would you like it if I gave away everything you have of your parents." Grayson was yelling by the end. "I want him out of those colors," Wayne's ward added after a moment of silence, voice low and sharp. "He can be your partner, be whoever else he wants, but not Robin. Not without my permission." Then Grayson turned and pinned the boy with a furious look before storming back out of the cave.

Jason suddenly felt very small and very guilty. It didn't matter that he hadn't known that Robin was a remnant of Grayson's mother. He'd stolen something from someone who had already lost so much and that was horrible even by Jason's warped standards. Anger quickly followed the guilt. Wayne hadn't been surprised that Robin had come from Grayson's mother so it meant that he hadn't cared. That was low. He whirled on his heel, decision made, and headed toward the changing area. He wasn't giving up on being Robin, not yet, but that didn't mean he was going to run around without Dick Grayson's approval. If that meant he had to come up with something different, well he'd cross that bridge when he got there.

"Where are you going?" Wayne rumbled and Jason scowled at the man over his shoulder.

"Going to change," he snapped. "'Cause stealing something from someone who already has nothing, that's low."

* * *

Furious tears welled in Dick's eyes but he refused to let them fall as he stormed toward his room in the manor, intending to pack and leave again. Never would he have suspected that he was replaceable to Bruce Wayne, but apparently he was. The man didn't care for him any more than the Court had, but this time Dick knew he didn't have to accept that. He could leave and he didn't have to ever return.

"Master Dick, are you alright?" Alfred asked as the young man rushed up the stairs, hands shaking.

"No," he spit out. "I'm not. He gave away my mother's name for me like it was nothing more than a hand-me-down toy." A couple of the tears did escape then and his hands shook. "My _mother's_ name for me, Alfred."

Alfred was not so professionally British that he could not look profoundly disappointed about what his employer had done. "I'm very sorry Master Dick," the butler said. "I hope you aren't so angry that you are planning on doing something rash."

"I'm leaving Alfred," Dick told him with a sad, worn thin smile. "I can't stay here, not after what he's done. I won't hang around and let someone manipulate me into thinking they care about me again."

"I understand," Alfred replied, ascending to place a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I do hope that this will not make you think you cannot come speak to me."

"Not a chance, Alf," Dick said, his smile becoming a little more genuine. Despite what he had been, Alfred had never treated him as anything more or less than a human being with the same ability to make good and bad decisions as any other ordinary human. It was something he treasured. Alfred nodded and headed back down the stairs, leaving Dick free to continue on towards his room.

He had just stretched out a hand to open his door when a voice behind him called, "Hey! Wait!" Dick turned around and felt cold fury wash over him again.

"What?" he snapped as he took in the sight of the boy who'd been wearing his colors. "You've already stolen my life. What more could you want?"

"It's not like that," the boy protested and Dick snorted.

"Yeah, _right_."

"He didn't tell me," the boy snapped and Dick froze. What had been dull disappointment and hurt in Bruce turned to flat out fury. It wasn't directed towards the boy.

A moment later the fury died away to nothing more than resignation and disappointment. "Of course," he said with an empty laugh. "I should have known." _I shouldn't have thought that he actually cared._ He leaned heavily against the door, feeling drained.

"I just came to tell you that I won't be Robin without your permission," the boy continued.

"Why not?" Dick questioned without heat. "Apparently Bruce is really the one who owns the name and you are the real son." Then he turned, stepped inside his room, and shut the door in the boy's face.

* * *

Jason stared at the closed door in mute irritation. He'd come up here to try and make things right with Grayson only to have the door shut in his face. Maybe he would be Robin without permission after all. "Do not take what he said to heart Master Jason," Alfred's mild voice said from behind him. "Master Dick has had a rather trying day. I'm sure he will reconsider his opinion when he's calmed down."

"Whatever," the boy muttered, rolling his eyes and heading for his room. Grayson could be a pissy as he liked. It wasn't as if Jason had to deal with him after today. He turned and stomped away, disappointment heavy in his heart. Not only had his day been crappy, his new older brother had turned out to be a jerk and he didn't even have his first patrol to look forward to.

He had only been sulking in his bedroom for ten minutes when there was a knock on his door. _"What?"_ Jason yelled at it impatiently, scowling up at his ceiling. He was flopped out on his bed at an awkward angle doing what his mother would have called pouting if she'd still been alive. The door opened and Jason rolled his head to one side only to almost topple off the bed in shock when he caught sight of a blank faced Dick Grayson.

"I've been informed that my behavior towards you was exceptionally harsh," he said, showing no visible signs of discomfort at the admission. "I apologize for that."

"Who got to you?" Jason asked with a snort. "Alfred?"

"No." One flat word, but this time Grayson actually looked uncomfortable.  
"Then who?" Jason was curious now. Sure, he knew there were other heroes out there, but he also knew that Batman didn't associate with them.

"You'll find out eventually, that is if you plan on sticking around," Dick replied, eyes distant. His gaze roved the room for a moment before settling on Jason. "Look, what I came to say is, do what you want. If you want to be Robin, be Robin. It wasn't Bruce's to give away and I'm angry at him but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"So I have your permission?" Jason asked, stunned. He was sitting up now and staring at the older boy, trying to figure out whether or not Dick was being serious.

"I just don't care," Dick told him. "I don't have the energy to anymore." A sad smile crossed his face and he added, "Look, none of this was about you. It was just the straw that broke the camel's back."

"Why don't you try talking to him?"

"Have you tried talking to Bruce Wayne?" Dick asked with a snort.

"No," Jason admitted. Unlike the false face he showed to the public, the real Bruce Wayne was both incredibly intimidating and incredibly stubborn. While the boy doubted that Dick was at all intimidated by Wayne, he did understand why talking wouldn't do much good.

"Bruce wants to control me," Dick told him. "And I'm done being controlled." He turned and headed for the door, only to pause and turn back with his hand on the door handle. "Jason, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck." Then he was gone.


	19. Mind Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: A mind controlled Slade almost kills Dick while they're on a mission together.

He gasped for breath, slowly healing side aching and dripping bloody onto the grimy Moroccan rooftop, as he stared up at the gleaming blade held by his soon to be killer. The mission hadn't started like this. When Dick Grayson and Slade Wilson had arrived in Tangier, the streets bustling with people, their goal had been simple. A mob boss with an interest in keeping a certain drug out of certain markets, two of which being Bludhaven and Gotham City strangely enough, had offered to pay Slade close to two million dollars to cripple his competition. After some deliberation, the mercenary had agreed and called Dick in as backup. That was when they'd run into the magic user.

She was some sort of spirit on a vengeance kick and somehow she'd ended up attached to the mob Slade and Dick were supposed to be crippling. In retaliation for their actions, she'd placed some kind of spell on Slade. Dick wasn't sure of specifics but he was fighting for his life so he thought that could be excused.

He stared up at the bloodstained blade gleaming just above his throat, trying to figure out a way out of this. The Court of Owls had trained him extremely well but no matter how hard he tried, Slade was always better. The man had more experience and, due to the serum running through his veins with blood, he could overpower Dick if necessary. Normally when the pair sparred, Slade held back. Under the magical influence of whatever spirit they'd unintentionally made angry he had come at Dick with everything in his arsenal.

"Slade," the young assassin croaked out, not daring to move for fear that it would provoke the man. "Shake it off." The man's grey eye was terrifyingly blank behind his mask. His grip on the sword tightened and Dick swallowed hard. He hadn't been this close to death since he'd escaped the Court. " _Slade,_ " he pleaded as the tip of the blade pressed against his throat, not yet drawing blood.

The boy bit down a whimper. Few things frightened him, but being killed by someone he cared for was one of them. It was an ultimate betrayal in his mind, a sign that he wasn't really cared for, and despite the fact that he knew Slade was being controlled, logic was not winning. He didn't dare move for fear that it would provoke the mercenary to strike. The last thing he wanted was for his head to be removed. There was no coming back from that.

His mind whirled frantically, searching for a way out of this. Besting Slade was not an option. Even under mind control, the mercenary was more than capable of taking the former talon down. That meant he needed to use other tactics just to get a chance to run. Had the surface beneath him been glass, he would have shattered it. Dick's one advantage was that his healing factor worked just a little bit faster than the mercenary's. Unfortunately, he was lying on concrete.

A shift of the sword had his mind swirling away from escape attempts and insisting this was the end. That was when the spirit appeared. She was smirking over Slade's shoulder, and that was the instant Dick's terror faded away to be replaced by white hot rage. This was the reason why he was cowering in fear underneath the blade of someone who had become family to him. It was not something he appreciated.

A low, thrumming growl vibrated in Dick's chest and she startled when he lunged upwards, allowing Slade's blade to slice through his throat like butter. It hurt, the pain rushing through him in a single wave that would have been crippling to anyone normal, and he couldn't breathe but it wouldn't kill him. He jerked back, the sword sliding out of him, and stood, ignoring his mind controlled friend for a moment to focus on the real problem.

" _You,_ " he mouthed, unable to speak at the moment, and her eyes widened. A moment later fury overtook her childish features and Slade lunged forward. Dick barely twisted out of the way, throat healing up fully with an audible click. "You're going to regret this," he snarled at the spirit before Slade slammed him up against the wall.

"I am not," she countered, speaking in English for the first time since they had encountered her. When she had ensorcered Slade, she had spoken in a language Dick vaguely recognized as a dialect of Celtic. He only knew this because one of the other talons, Aisling, had still remembered how to speak it. He hadn't learned any of the words but he had recognized a few. "I am Glaistig. Vengeance is my duty."

Dick let out a choked noise when Slade wrapped a hand around his throat, squeezing, and the girl giggled. He squirmed, trying to find some way to break free, and the hand tightened. He went limp, unable to fight without any air. The girl seemed to glow brighter, body solidifying and he could see now that she was older than he had thought. "You're dying now," she said, eyes bright, and Dick realized suddenly that she had the lower half of a goat. The world was whirling around him now, his body struggling to shut itself down but the electrum refused to let him. He couldn't die. Not like this. It wasn't possible. "Feel the life draining out of your body," she continued. She made an almost absent gesture and Slade crushed his throat before releasing him.

The former assassin crumbled to the ground. He felt disconnected from his body, almost as if he was floating above it. The girl laughed and, under the sound of her laughter, he sucked in a breath of air. That was enough for him to rise up, fast as a striking snake, and send a still Slade toppling to the ground. When the mercenary's head bounced off the rooftop, Dick was there to bounce it again, ensuring that the man was unconscious. The spirit let out a furious screech, form wavering, and Dick smiled up at her with a bloody grin.

"Good bye," he said, as her whole body filled with blinding light and then vanished. Dick breathed out a sigh of relief then and slumped tiredly down on the rooftop. A moment later he stood on shaky legs and slipped his hand underneath Slade's arms, tiredly pulling the mercenary to safety.

* * *

Slade Wilson found himself staring at the cream colored ceiling and slowly spinning ceiling fan of he and Dick's hotel room. He sat up slowly, head aching and found the kid watching him almost warily. "Slade?" he asked, sounding uncertain. The mercenary frowned then, wondering what had happened that had made the kid so nervous.

"Yeah?" he rasped out and Dick managed a half smile. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

Slade's eyes narrowed at the determined non-answer but the boy didn't falter. Slowly, the merc closed his eyes and tried to remember the events of the night before. "We took out the targets," he said at last. "But there was someone else in the room. Everything after that is a blur." And now that he thought about it, that was worrisome.

"It wasn't a someone else so much as a some _thing_ else," Dick replied grimly. "A glastig. She took control of your mind for a little bit."

"And?"

"It doesn't matter," came the dismissive reply. That told Slade everything he needed to know. He'd likely tried to kill the kid while under the control of whatever creature had been protecting the people they'd killed.

"I think it does."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Slade barely resisted rolling his eyes at the immaturity of that response. "Then what do you want to talk about?" Dick scowled down at the floor but didn't respond, making the merc sigh. "Tell me about the glastig."

"Also called a Green Lady. They're Scottish spirit. I'm not sure why one was in Morocco though."

"Maybe she was attached to a person or object," Slade suggested and Dick nodded thoughtfully. Then he yawned. "Get some rest," the merc advised, knowing that Dick wasn't actually going to talk about what had happened until he had a couple nightmares. The former assassin nodded in agreement, flopping down on the couch in a way that said he was completely exhausted by the events of the day. It didn't take long for the kid to drift off to sleep.

An hour later Dick jolted awake with a strangled gasp. His eyes were wild and when Slade crossed the room to press a gentle hand against his shoulder, he was trembling slightly. "You want to talk?" The kid shook his head but he didn't close his eyes. "Fine." He stood, knowing he was playing dirty now, and headed back towards the bed. Whatever the glastig had made him do, it had drained him just as much as it had the kid.

He was just about to sit down when Dick said, "Wait." His voice was soft but Slade's hearing was sensitive enough to hear him. He turned back and settled on the arm of the couch. Dick refused to look at him.

"Tell me," Slade ordered after a full minute of silence.

"We fought," Dick said, voice rough. There was a hesitation and then he added, "You tried to kill me. If I would have been human, you would have."

Slade took a moment to absorb the information before asking, "Is that what you were dreaming about?"

"No." Dick's hands clenched into fists in the blanket covering him. "In real life, I knocked you out to win. In the dream, I had to kill you."

"I'm not going anywhere kid," Slade told him, hearing the underlying fear and doing his best to assuage it.

"Yeah?" The mercenary could hear the skepticism in Dick's voice.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Besides, you couldn't kill me even if you tried." That made the corner of Dick's mouth quirk up in a thin grin. Slade reached over and squeezed Dick's shoulder. For the first time since he'd woken, the kid looked him in the eye. "Get some rest. We have a client to deal with and we'd better be paid extra for dealing with a Scottish spirit." That comment coaxed an actual smile that, despite its frailty, was real.

"I think our client can be persuaded," the former assassin agreed, muscles relaxing some.

"No doubt," Slade agreed, amused by the implications of the statement.

"Now sleep." Dick nodded and snuggled back into the couch. Slade waited until the kid's breathing had evened out in sleep before heading over to the bed to drift off into his own dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come prompt me on tumblr (itselliebrown.tumblr.com)!


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